Rise of Perseus: Tortured and Recreated
by MortalFantasy0002
Summary: This is the consequence of the council's decision. Someone had to pay, and the hero is the one to receive it. Banished to the deepest of pits, Perseus must learn to adapt and fight, yet he must have both patience and will. His travels with bring perilous tasks, but he will ascend to immortality. He will escape, his containment at an end. For his suffering, they will all pay…
1. An Introduction

**Disclaimer; I don't own the original characters from _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_ or _Heroes of Olympus _because Rick Riordan does. I don't think I could live up to that quality of work, or come up with those portrayed characters.**

**A/N: Now, I welcome myself to the writing and publishing of fanfiction! Yeah well, anyway, as I was saying this is my first _posted_ story. All I ask of you as readers are reviews stating your honest opinions. Flame me people! But, just so you know, I'm not the most accomplished writer on this website, nor I am old enough to know _every_ _single grammar rule _known to man, or high school graduate. So, I'd still appreciate corrections. Oh, and if this story is liked well enough, don't expect an exceptionally fast update rate.**

** Without further ado...**

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**_Viewer caution advised_**

_1430, Sunday 11 August, Australian Eastern Standard Time: This story may contain references of sex, implied rape, and few torture and fight scenes. Material may be offensive to some viewers. However, these will be limited. This story has no sex, rape or gore scenes. This comes as an M rated story. As a suggestion by the author of this story, please be at least 13 year of age when reading this story._

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Chapter 1: The introduction

All I can do is glare passionately at the soft soil, meant to create a fine yard for all prisoners here. Basically just me, and the people who had captured me as soon as I was on the surface of this pit. Those assholes had warned me previously. Yet I did not heed the advice from ones who tried to erase me from existence. Or at least the ones who didn't try to stop that thing from trying. Blasted immortal gods. Erasing me would take much more considerable effort. Much more time-consuming as well. I know immortal beings when it comes to time. So precious.

But I do not get a chance to further wander into these thoughts as the restricting collar on my neck lets out a faint hiss, sending a jolt up my spine in warning. Another one of their stupid torturous devices to keep me watched over, and to keep me submissive in more ways than one. Once again, a jolt of electricity shocked me. But at a more powerful level. It warns me when my thoughts begin to get much too violent. Or these thoughts are ill-directed towards my captors. They can basically read my mind along with this thing, after casting some spell on me. I wouldn't be surprised if it were some whole other component, either.

I understand why they classify this as a place of darkness. Beyond the walls, beyond the properties of this place and beyond the gates forever entrapping me, there is nothing but darkness, and the many planes that spread vastly beyond my imagination. If you were lucky enough to reach the end - few are - you'd just find walls created of blessed metals, with no exits unless you were powerful enough or you were transported out to Hades. That's barely anyone, and I classify as a lesser in power. Even with all the elegance, intelligence and power I had once possessed, I am still nothing to beings trapped in here like me.

But these walls are dimly lit by torches, and with the ethereal glow the special metals do emit, that these walls are so finely created from. But it is still dark, even the most evil or pure of beings couldn't see further into its depths, but see only the eyes of the wicked and the damned. Unless they choose to embrace it. The walls only offer a stark contrast to this dull place, not sanctuary from those who want me dead. Never will I be in a place without enemies. Even if I were to escape, I'd be dead. But at least I'd be dead, not living in this realm or the one above, tortured in all ways possible.

I sat upright from my previously hunched position, straightening as an unexpected bolt of electricity zapped up my spine. Much more powerful than most realise. The shock collar is most effective, even to powerful demigods. Or better known as heroes in the new age. Rarely are there ever mortal warriors, in my lifetime I'm sure that not once have I heard of a clear-sighted mortal warrior. Then again, I'm still mortal though. I can die. I am imperfect. Nor am I invincible, as I have many flaws. That stray thought is what is keeping me sane, yet I borderline insanity.

At least I did not receive the godly strength shock collar. I tried it for a day, and trust me when I say this: it was much, much worse than my current shock-collar. It was at least ten fold in greater strength. I had almost been knocked out or had nearly died several times. Far beyond belief and toleration for a mortal, but I will never understand how I come to live today. But still real nevertheless. I have learned to control most of my thoughts, but a stray one escapes my mind on the odd occasion, and I receive a high voltage shock that really offers pain. I can also repel some of the effects of the collar, and guard my thoughts, but that comes with limits and extents.

I notice a presence and a faint, yet imposing shadow as its pretty dark down here. I only then realise after glancing around, that a figure stood at a height far above my own, had I been standing up. But alias, I'm sitting on the ground, allowing my figure to stay as small as possible, clutching my legs to my body, with my arms wrapped around my legs. He had to be at least twelve feet in height from my perception, down on the ground. I had the funny feeling in the back of my mind that he could kill me, as his features screamed powerful being. Had I not been who I was, I probably would have cowered before his feet.

He stared at me with with a blank expression, yet it held great intensity, before kneeling down, so he could either get a better look or do something physically demeaning. I had expected some form of assault, so I flinched, but nothing of the sort happened nor did I expect what he did next. I felt his hand move to my shoulder, almost in a sympathetic manner, but his eyes say otherwise. I could feel the tense muscles in his fingers, twitching, probably not used to this type of contact. Which kind of makes it ironic. I also felt the penetrating gaze he had called upon, burning metaphorical holes into my skin. I probably had an expression of surprise and confusion, and indeed do I feel taken aback.

I finally gained the courage to look up, to greet the staring eyes of another, fear most likely evident in my eyes. I mean, surely you'd be scared if a guard with his imposing figure had came to face you like this. I know I am. I could only stare into his large dark eyes, and it gave me full leeway to reach his soul. I could only sense the crimes committed against the ones who I cannot label, but they meant much to him, and I saw the way he was forced to commit crimes against others in turn. They revealed a deep sadness, and showed a great sorrow. There was also a distant flicker of anguish, and much hatred. To what or whom, I have no honest idea. I know that I pity who has gotten him angry. Because I've seen a raging giant.

I stammered, my voice hoarse. "W-what do you wa-want?" I don't speak much often, but when I speak at all its usually for screaming in pain, laying on the torture table. He gave a small sigh before his shoulders slumped, saying "Great hero, do not fret. I swear that I am not your enemy. Just remember that not all is lost, and you must keep the things most important in mind, especially when considering death by one's self. You have allies that cannot be seen, working behind the scenes, and others who will be noted in a sequential order of events. Better known as time." His voice was deep, sounding similar to a bass. But yet he sounded so gentle, so quiet.

I blinked my eyes once, and that was the only time he needed to change back into his identity of a guard. His expression turned hard, but there was a flicker of apology only an experienced body reader could spot. Luckily, I did. He ordered me "Up you get, little boy! Your break time is over! Done! We must return now, so my superiors can stay pleased." He gave a rather discreet glance around, obviously checking for surveillance devices of any sort or any eavesdropper, like the covert agent they use to track movements of the guards to know about 'corruption' and 'treachery'. That isn't quite corruption, now is it? Well, in technicality…

After making a solid check and look-around, he continued with his act and roughly picked me up, before basically tossing me forward, making me lose balance and stumble forward, nearly crashing into the steps. But then again, I didn't have balance in the first place. He just shoved me forward, not exactly caring much. I coughed up what I swear was blood, and I nearly collapsed into a coughing fit right on the steps. But somehow I had managed to keep it at bay. I stood up, and I soon found a weapon hovering over the small of my back. Clearly small and sharp, prodding me forward.

Others may or may not notice by sight, but I myself could feel the ever-so-slight hesitation in his movements, as well as the caution in not harming me. I'm willing to bet that it would have been difficult for anyone else to notice this slight detail, but my original powers had grown to a far more advanced level to what anyone could have anticipated, even the council. Not even my torturers know of all my abilities. This came after nearly destroying Camp Half-Blood and Olympus, summoning a pretty impressive storm. But, back on topic. I understand that he doesn't want to harm me any worse, because I'm already being tortured and threatened with valid threats.

All I can really think about is that this is nothing like the last time I was here, but at least I can say that I've survived here twice, as a mortal nonetheless. Once after choosing to enter Tartarus for my oh-so-great girlfriend, with only one way of escape. And this time, by the gods themselves after all I've done, and this time captured with no way out.

We walked the many small steps, with the many floors, passing through corridors and hallways with flaming torches, ablaze with warm flames that emanated soft warmth once again contrasting the dark dungeons of Tartarus. It was surprisingly modern, and I guess they wanna keep with the times. But it also gave that ancient, medieval feel, with the whole brick walls and flaming torches thing. We had also passed prisoners in either jail or prison cells, who would suddenly fall silent and stare at me in adoration.

I mean seriously, the inmates had found out that the masters had singled me out, and a few did some digging in research. They refer to me as the Once Hero, a special inmate who had been captured by the blasted rulers of a majority of this abyss, after being thrown into here by the Olympians. He was once their pride and joy, their greatest pawn. But he was accused and thrown into here, in ignorance. I've got a reputation, and most come to admire me because of it. I'm a figure for hope, yet I pose as the opposite to the ones who don't accept that they are controlled, in a prison. I'm the figurehead for oppression, a reminder and example to the others. Meanwhile on the surface, mortals and gods alike remain oblivious.

Of course, continuing on. We both ascend and descend up even larger staircases, both of us grumbling about the amount of floors and steps, whining about distance. This also made it almost impossible to remember, and making it seem like the cursed labyrinth. An endless maze. Except it was times seven point five, plus the many stairs and steps, twists and turns and all other annoyances. This was set up as a precaution as they were smart enough to take different routes each freaking time, alternating. They even deliver me to different cells each time. This makes it virtually impossible for me to plot an escape route. They really don't want me to escape. Or figuring/remembering ways to leave this stupid piece of, best not say it. I'd rather face pain, torture or any forms of gore later. When I'm in the Chamber. I still cannot believe they're so suspicious, and paranoid. It's almost amusing, but you'll see the pessimistic side when you're in my position.

But, I was still amazed by the grandeur of these halls - no, the AD/HD side effect really doesn't effect me all that much - and I can manage to focus on the intricate details, that are so perfect that only magic could possibly put it there. After all, it's meant to be deep and dark Tartarus. Oh wait, that is outside in the awful terrain, that I would so love right now! These halls are lit up like the Olympian palaces at night, which are actually quite bright. And place a considerable affect on the eyes.

That's another thing, all dark places in here and outside in general are especially emphasised, so it may seem like this is the only safe haven in dank Tartarus. Naturally, most sentient creatures - ones with complicated thought processes with higher motor capabilities, I'll leave it at that - except maybe certain monsters, are afraid of the dark because they know of lurking threats, activated by their gut/better judgement and intuition. I know this from personal experience - explanation later - and a greater knowledge called intelligence. I found it when I was stuck down here, figuring out as to how I got here. From back then. *Sarcasm entered*

I soon found that I lost track of time, but this also happens to a lot of unlucky mortals, but its only because it effects our inner body-clocks. We could go without sleep for months, or sleep for days. Another excuse for the collar. Once again, memories… I don't know how long I've been walking, for all I know it could be minutes. But I'd challenge that, because of how many steps we've travelled. But then again, my sense of time and counting isn't the greatest. I can't figure out how long I've been here, but I figured that it's a ratio of around about a day here, to an hour over there. Tartarus has faster daily cycles because its closer to the centre of time or something. I wasn't really paying attention because I thought I wouldn't be in this situation. But I caught snippets, if that helps. Time goes unperceived by me, even in normal daily activities and scenarios. Thankfully they don't do educational classes, only inappropriate to innocent ears ones. Like BD/SM. Thats going to haunt you now, isn't it? You're going to have nightmares once I tell you the intricate details, oh wait. Sorry, forgot about the collar for a moment there. That last part has absolutely no relevance or value in this story.

Damn, the sappy, wimpy and fluffy thoughts are coming along. Oh how I long for my lover's touch. To forever embrace her and make her mine. But here is the bit to cheer about. Oh how I'm beginning to doubt the worthless piece of garbage called our love. Yes people, I'm in doubt of my feelings! Happy now? Anyway, I can't really think about it in case one day I do escape and I'm left heart broken, my feelings crushed. However unlikely that may be. And even if I was fine. Well, ever heard of the shock collar?

I'd be shocked to near death at the rate and dirtiness of my thoughts. Yes people. I'm a boy in a teenage body who never got to experience those fun years of puberty. I grew up too early. Yeah, it came late for me. And I'll be stuck like this. So why not take advantage of my life while I still have it? Doesn't mean I remain unfaithful or anything like that. Nah, I just take my emotions to the max.

After finally stopping at a metal sliding door, grey with no viewing window, nor were there any windows to give viewing access to the room. I recognise it all too well, as shivers were shooting up and down my spine. The horrible memories…it's the only room I could actually label properly, because the rest are just a random jumble of nameless rooms. I like to call this the Torture Chamber. It haunts my dreams, and its the only constant in my world of variables. It's where all of my memories in Tartarus are thought to occur, except the moment in the yard. That's where I am crushed to nearly nothing, and I also become a pessimist because of it.

The grey door opened automatically, which made me jump three feet high, but it was soundless, flawless. The railing it was hooked up to did not make a noise, and I had to admit I'm both impressed and aggravated that the place seems to be constantly up-to-date and refurbished. It's against the typical rusted-over style prison, the complete opposite I preach. It far surpasses my expectations. All the bolts, washers and fixtures are completely stabilised, working properly by appearance.

I turn to stare into the room once I am over the initial shock of it all. This is the place in this universe that I hate and fear the most. I only receive those emotions against the room itself and the gods damn bloody torturers. I continue to stare until I'm stabbed in the small of my back, albeit lightly. I yelped in surprise and he whispered "Go inside and change clothes. I myself will remove the collar." It could've sounded like he was trying to help me escape, in the way he phrased it. I let out a growl I didn't know I had, before snapping and entering.

Before actually entering and stepping in, I hesitated because this really is not something I enjoy. I glanced back to find him glaring impatiently, holding a button. He pressed it, and my muscles spasmed on instinct. I knew that he somehow got control over the collar, and he'll fry me if I do not enter. I gulped, before recovering and turning back. I continued to hesitate as I stared emptily, before sighing and giving up. I entered and was instantly greeted with the strong stench of antiseptic, that I hate so very much.

I winced as my shirt came off, and a bitter wind had somehow entered and so the air played along my scars. I cursed, after making myself look down at my body. It is ridden with scars, some new but others old. Some pale and next to disappearing, while others are pink and certainly fresh. Or they've been further played with. The memories with each of these scars rush back with a vivid array of colours, making me groan in mental pain. I comply by taking off the remaining clothes and replacing them.

I shivered as my bare-backed skin came in to contact with the cold hard surface of the metal torture table, reserved only for me and very naughty prisoners. It's quite humiliating about what kind of shame those inmates go through. I had also heard they were offered to have sex with an immortal god or goddess once, and they accepted. Never were they seen again. My limbs were soon covered with leather straps, harsh leather mind you. He tightened them considerably so I couldn't move an inch from my actual position, thanks to straps around both ankles, both thighs, both wrists and both upper arms. They were magical too.

The guard gave me a pitying look, before removing the collar and hanging it next to my head, snapped into a bind extending from the table. I had the most maniacal grin as I shouted curses, and I used vulgar swear words too, to insult the fire-trucking guards in this place. My hatred for them wasn't displayed correctly by my mouth, that just displayed my potty mouth. My hatred for them couldn't be released in my words alone. That'd take months. No, my hatred goes far beyond that. It's much more personal.

In fact, some of these creative curses had been created in Isolation, which is basically a padded cell for people who have proven their possible insanity, but it wasn't insanity for me. I had just bashed an inmate's head in, after he found ways to indirectly insult people I give a damn about. (Who are few, if any at all) I could've killed him with my bare hands, in more ways then one. Like for example, I can snap a guy's neck or perform a complex spine-breaking manoeuvre. It was funny when I snapped his hand and wrist, as he went off crying for his mommy.

Once after getting after the humour of my comments, the guard merely raised one of his eyebrows, saying "I don't think I've heard those kind of phrases. I'm going to remember those. I'm really concerned for your mental health. I really do wonder how you are mortal, demigod…" My newly acquired giant friend let out snickers and chuckles as he mutters some of the phrases so only he could continue laughing. I frowned, calling out "I don't appreciate you using some of those towards yourself or me! Keep that in mind! Will ya?"

I earned faint laughter in return. I heard it an fraction of a second before clearly sarcastic clapping begun in the shadows. I glanced in that general direction, and my eyes went wide as I shouted "Listen you little shit. I really don't appreciate the sarcastic clapping. Get out here and actually do your job for once, not being the backstabbing traitor you are!" The person/object of my rant stepped out of the shadows with a smug grin on his face, with a female monster in tow. I laughed at the memories of both of them.

I still cursed continuously, playing along with his games. He has proven himself untrustworthy, but he can be easily fooled. Its not a hard thing to do, just bait him with an undeniable proposal. Prometheus asked with a sly smile implanted on his face, "Are you absolutely sure on that sarcastic comment, demigod? I could've sworn I heard a certain someone's annoying yet amusing sarcasm being unleashed over the giant of the Sea, bane of Poseidon. It was actually one of the funniest sights I've seen in my lifetime. Did you seriously see him clutch onto his cuddly tiger shark?"

He continued to stare at me, then my body in general. He licked his lips, and his tone soon attempts to be seductive, saying, "You do know that if you accepted right now, to side with us, you could be given a high position of power, as our servants and allies find respect for you. We've got to consider their collective opinion now, because of the working union shit. But it'd probably be something next to the rank of Titan Lord. As you are desirable in more than one way. If you wished, we could make you some god and give you any one of those virgin goddess daughters of Zeus. Anyone you would want, as long as they are alive. Or any number of demigoddesses."

I raised my eyebrow quizzically, because coming from Prometheus or the Titans in general that's exceptionally generous. "Why'd I do that? I mean, the offer is really tempting and all, but no thanks. I don't honestly think I can get over the whole torture thing that your allies had committed, that's too much. I do know what would happen if I were to serve under the Titans if they came into rule, certainly wouldn't be pretty above on the surface, I would find it safer here."

All Prometheus did in return was shrug, "Alright, that's a fair point. I will admit that. But you do not see is that when either the giants or Titans come into rule, however distant and eventual, you will come to regret your decision. No denial. As to why you'd choose that, you are an idiot in multiple ways. I'm sure you remember what the gods did, and do not expect the demigods to hang onto you forever. Do you really wish to know more, little demigod?"

I arched an eyebrow in inquiry, because I really did want to know more. But he still didn't stop. "You have been here for almost a hundred years, which is local time. Up there its more or less, at a drastic amount either way. You've probably figured out the rate of difference. You shouldn't also forget that your pretty little 'girlfriend' won't hang onto you forever, like those demigods. Or the other friends that still have their faith in you. If I decided to tell you anymore, you really would try killing yourself. I can't allow for that possible risk."

With that final statement, he turned around and made a gesture with his arms, signalling my favourite torturer monster or better known as Kempe, to continue on with her torture duties. She drew her scimitars at an incredibly slow pace, allowing the metal blades to make contact with their sheathes, allowing the harsh metal to make horrible sounds, just to torture me. I sadistic grin had appeared from the start. Before she had ripped off my tunic and somehow, I had been rolled onto my back, so my front was making contact with the harsh cold metal table. Once again, I blame magic.

That is where immediate pain seep up my spine, and I only now do I realise that my friend Kempe had added some type of poison to her blades, and I do not think I could imagine what kind of components make up this poison. She ran her own, very sharp blades in intricate lines across my skin, and only now do I realise that those lines are words and characters that are being permanently traced into my skin. My skin tingles all around my body, and I do try and clench my fingers together, into fists. But I found that I couldn't.

I now realise that I can no longer feel the harsh cold of the table, or the soft but cold breeze that usually remains in this room. All of my body. I can no longer feel. I have gone numb, even if the pain can still be felt. The pain was tremendous, as the pain made me want to scream aloud, but my tongue could not be felt. It was basically tied. I tried to bit down on it, with my teeth. But I simply could not. When a noise finally had escaped my lips, it had been some kind of pathetic whimper.

I had even tried to snap my head back and forward, again the metal table, but alias. My head couldn't be moved and inch from its original position. And so I could not relieve myself of the pain through unconsciousness. I curse in every way I know possible, within my head as I cannot speak verbally. She had marked me like the torturers before herself, the ones I've made a mental list of as this is only time I will have the chance to think such vengeful thoughts. I can feel my hatred boiling over.

I bear this pain for what seems to be hours, and today I admit her tortures rival holding the sky and taking a dip in the Styx. Not quite the same, but close. For these same possible hours, she marks me in the many places that inhabit my body, and she is intent of torturing me as worst as possible. She uses many torture techniques, forcing me to feel the pain. All along, she curses me for the deeds I have done on behalf of Olympus, and the wrong choices I have made. The things I have believed. She curses me for her fate, but I just smirk inwardly.

Yet this same pain had far surpassed my previous abusers. I knew they all hate me on some level, so they all got their many constant daily sessions of torture, just to have the sadistic pleasure of torturing me to absolute extents. They would taunt me along with the others who give a damn about me in any way possible. I couldn't nor did not complain about it, otherwise I would only receive more forms of torture. Some of that also including verbal torture, to which I wouldn't protest.

Some of those were absolutely disgusting, which I won't go into full details. I had even been put into submissive positions, which I had been abused in shameful ways that I wish not to discuss nor mention. And at the end of those sessions, those who chose to do that would caress my body lovingly and mutter things about me being theirs now. My mind had been screwed with severely, in many possible ways. How else do you think I had learnt of BD/SM, and violated in the ass? And some of those haven't been female, now picture it.

Meanwhile, in the middle of my water torture using all types of liquids, Prometheus strolled and the waved his hand. I almost sigh in relief. He says "Kempe, dear. You've had your fun for today. Give the boy some mercy. But do not forget that this sweet little mortal boy is for all of us to share." He eyes me hungrily, and I manage to swear, muttering. But to emphasise his point, he gestures to her scimitars. This nearly makes me faint. They were both stained crimson red, with the blood of a mortal. My own blood. I blink, because that's a fair amount of blood loss.

No wonder I'm rather woozy, and dizzy. The room was spinning, and my head was swaying side to side. The female monster just pouted, but seeing the Titan's firm resolve and knowing he wasn't going to give in, she just scowled. Now she just sheathed her blades, before glaring my way and walking off in calm, muttering obscenities directed towards the two of us. The collar had just appeared on my neck, magically no doubt, and my restraints just seemed to loosen and remove themselves. I breathed a sigh, sitting up on the table.

Prometheus ordered "Put your clothes back on and wait for the guard." I just nodded obediently, and he walked out, just like that. I quickly slip off my top, before slipping my prison shirt back on. It made contact with my newly acquired wounds, causing me to wince. I slipped off my bottom half, and I began to admire my new bloody red scars on my legs, mainly thighs and knee caps. My legs are stiff, but I still put on my prison pants. I cringe as the dead skin of my wounds get caught in the material, but I slowly step off the table.

I stand up gingerly, as it felt like I had been sitting on the table for a long time. And the pain also really begins to set in. My knees begin to buckle, and before I could really steady myself, I found myself on my knees, clutching my stomach and leaning forward. I finally let out a scream. It must have been ear-piercing for sure, very loud as expected of a scream. It had at least sounded like that to my ears. It sounded more like a female squeal then a male yelp.

I do finally manage to stop, and stand up to my full imposing height. But this time I manage to use the flat surface of the table to steady myself, making sure to not rely on my right foot too much or topple over, because it had been a last parting gift from Kempe. A different guard entered, one I swear I had a few days back. Must be short-staffed because of how many guards that have already accompanied me. I just realise now that my shirt had somehow fallen off, leaving people with full sight of my chest and back. I guess a warming to the others from the Immortals.

I am forced into silence by my awesome shock collar, because I have lots of harsh things and nothing nice to say, or think. All the dangerous thoughts I do have would probably get me fried and electrocuted to death. By way of frying my internal organs. Then re-heating them. Then frying them. It is a never-ending cycle. I do not really like or appreciate that particular feeling, because I begin to feel as if I'm getting more stupid each time it happens. Or much more intelligent. I hate it more then the Titan Lords hate me. And that's a lot.

The guard had also purposefully walked slow, because of my blasted limp I had to rely on him for balance. We walk slowly through the cell corridors, and little does he realise that I'm pick-pocketing him of his master-key, and other things. He made us do this because he was enforcing as to why that you should not make an enemy of the Titans. I do manage to keep my head down, but I do feel eyes burning into my skin, and there were also loud whispers of my physical condition, and they're clearly lusting.

But there were also murmurs of the new marks that had been etched into my skin, marked on my body. I heard fragments of conversation, but only fragments. I heard loud whispers of "Kempe…", "That mark…" and "Accursed by right…" being muttered frequently, and I knew that they must have heard my screams. Or they know more about this then me, which would not honestly make me surprised. Even though its possible that the room had been sound-proofed, however unlikely. But the thing is, all the while I thought their gazes never left my body. Not once. They seemed to stare.

He roughly picked me up and forced me to walk, making me hop because of my ankle. But this is certainly more deliberate, this time, just so I can make my mind more aware of its surroundings. Including all of the halls, corridors as well as the many flights of stairs. And I also made sure I took in the faces of the inmates, because this will make it easier to map these hallways. They just stared. I reached my cell in an unusually fast time, before I was thrown in.

I stumbled intro the room, as the guard slammed the door to my cell shut, before locking it and walking away. I hear his steps echo, as the lights in this particular corridor had been either turned off or put out. I sigh in contented peace as the brisk footsteps of his army-style are slowly retracting, growing faint, until they are slowly compressed to nothing, and complete silence had filled the corridor where only I remain in residence. I don't hesitate as I hobble over to the cot, as I climb into the soft sheets, and pull the covers over me.

I find that I cannot sleep, and so I glance up, a small detail catches my eye, and I could feel a breeze exit the window, hitting my face. Things obscured my view, but I could see the distant darkness of what this really meant to be. The scary abyss of hell, known as Tartarus to our world. The window, however distant, gave me sight to the endless darkness above the surface of Tartarus, but it was covered with the majority being other cells that should not exist here. I don't know how such a thing is created here.

I breathe in, closing my eyes. As my eyes remain closed, I allow my eyes to remain closed. I attempt to clear my mind, but this ultimately fails as I cannot forget the collar around my neck, restraining me. Nor could I shrug off the breeze traveling across my face, from the window. This is common for me, as this happens each night. I simply cannot sleep properly. Everything becomes far too distracting for me, including the torturous past events of the day. Faces flash through my mind. All those who died because of me. The council. The people who were once my family. I don't honestly believe I could ever sleep properly ever again, mortal life or no.

My eyes snap open, at the feeling of tender fingers traces the hard lines of my face. I see a girl clad in black armour, sitting on the edge of my bed. She graces me with feather wings, black nor white. Her eyes are both as bright as the sun, yet they are as dark as night. Her hair falls to just below her breasts. Her arms are fragile, beautiful. Her mouth doesn't move, but she speaks in a youthful, but deep voice. "One day, my mate, you will help us escape this pit and let us roam free upon the surface, where we belong. I will no longer be corrupted, nor pure." She touches my hand, and I fall into the void realm of sleep with an angel's touch.

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**Thank you for reading, people. Now, I ask for your reviews, as I value your opinions. And if you don't, but you still follow or favourite this story, I will be _very_ unhappy. **


	2. The Titans

**Disclaimer; I don't own ****_Percy Jackson and the Olympians_**** or ****_Heroes of Olympus_****, because Rick Riordan does. **

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**A/N: Chapter 2 people! Criticism appreciated. Note: you may see that some characters are OOC but I don't care.**

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Chapter 2: Titans

My eyes flutter open, and I wake up to the the harsh gust of cold wind, and the cold in a room, associated with night. Also associated with dark places, such as this prison cell deep within the dark abyss of Tartarus. Even if this is meant to be close to the earth's core, an everlasting heating system of this planet, with very high temperatures. That's the mortal theory anyway. So, you could say that this is the only place where it should both be hot and cold at the same time. I don't know science. But this cell has to be below freezing point, which is 0° Celsius. Anything beyond a two meter radius can't be seen, with my sight. The lights also happen it be off.

In that split instant in between the realm of dreams and the realm of reality, I thought I had been back at Camp Half-Blood, and I had woken up in Cabin 3, Poseidon's cabin. My cabin. Well, that was before the memories had returned in the split second afterwards. They returned in a rush that made me see white spots covering my vision, with a throbbing headache. I then remember that I no longer have a father, or at least one that had wished to call me his son. Nor do I have contact with the surface above.

That being said, no contact especially with the woman I once considered my mother, before she too turned her back on me, but mustn't I forget that she will always be my mother. Then there's also the campers and residents of Camp Half-Blood, and the camp in general. They were once my world. My family and friends. But how could I possibly forget the Olympians, or Olympus in general? They too were my family, however dysfunctional. Now when they are in need of my assistance, with a new threat arising. I will not be there for as long as I live, memories intact.

I now hate them more than the Immortals down here. Those being the Titans, immortal monsters, the Giants and Gaia. I hate them because the campers were the ones who made me the outcast, where I had been forced to Olympus, asking the gods for a request. I'm down here because of the Olympians. Then I suddenly remember the collar around my neck, and it had been my only actually friend for a long time - no kidding - and I quickly refrain from those particular thoughts. It had been my only friend as it couldn't respond to the questions I pose, nor is it a living organism.

I do try and remain in my covers, which offer me a warmth I haven't felt in a long time, but it seems that my covers had slipped off my cot because of my constant rolling around, or the gust of wind had simply blew it off. After giving up, I remember the demigod or half-blood dreams, that remain strangely lucid. The scene from a few years back - local time. Still haven't figured out the actual time difference, or the way it works - also rings in the back of my mind. All I do remember is the beautiful, regally angelic face of a girl, and a feeling of nearly-absolute peace.

Which does remain highly unlikely, mind you. It's as likely as both the Titans and giants working together to rise. Improbable to impossible. The rest happens to be blurred out, including the heavenly words she speaks. I recognise this type of blurring and interference as one of an immortal's doing. But her face only offers a tiny flame to my shattered heart, to help repair and mend it. It offers me joy for only a few moments, however little. It still comes to warm me.

The cold that has long since entered and covered this room makes full on contact with my skin, making my body shiver in the cot I so lay upon, and a thought occurs in my head. I feel around in my own chest pocket, and breathe a sigh of relief. The key I had stolen from that guard long ago had managed to remain in my pocket, thankfully not falling out. The funny thing is that the guard or whomever is set to keep guard of the key is yet to guess it. Nor do they realise it was me who had taken it. The guard must have thought that he misplaced it, or he just must not care and the key is unneeded.

I come to sit upon my bed gingerly, laying my legs parallel to the surface of the small bed. Yet I remain careful to not aggravate any of my wounds, as each time they hurt me physically, once they come into effect again. All of those who I blame wish for me to hurt, so therefore I would be satisfying their desires. They would leave me a gift after each session, in way of some form of injury. I cannot count how many are placed around my body, as there are too many.

As of right now, many are currently affecting my body to extents that offer me much obvious pain. But I try to bear it upon my will, as it helps me forget about everything else that has happened in my life, if I just concentrate. I carefully extend my legs to their full length, keeping them flat and parallel. If I had of tried this upon the ground, it would have hurt my palms and other body parts, as it has a gravel-like surface. I couldn't do it bare-footed either. Once again, I state that the pain would hurt a lot.

I carefully stretch my body in all positions possible, to my knowledge. Yet I remain lying down. I am trying to stretch my muscles, so when I do get up I won't have a leg cramp of some form. Once I have managed to finish this, I stand up on the ground. You may find this an easy task, but after all the tortures I have received it takes greater effort. I continue all my basic stretches, trying to get my body in sync with the rest of the jail. I do this cautiously, as I cannot see. I'm also careful to not overwhelm my body, in case my injuries start to act up.

I sit back down, scrambling into the draws and searching furiously for anything I could use for this next activity. I find two pieces of cloth, both made of a material similar to a bandage. I carefully wrap these pieces of cloth around my palms, and fingertips. I get down on my hands and knees, carefully of course, before beginning to preform my daily exercises of push-ups, sit-ups, and all other exercises associated with these. I had only began this a few 'years' back, but my body remains in top physical condition, with torture-related scars.

I stand up, carefully using my hands to elevate myself off the ground. I took a stance that is generally used in hand-to-hand combat. I turn slightly on my right as I'm right handed, left hand extended forward and my right hand further backward, closer to my body. Palms open, legs apart. Left further forward then the right. I begin practicing my hand-to-hand combat skills, through different styles including mortal kick-boxing and others similar to this. The ones I had been forced to learn at Camp-Half-Blood, by horse-man, after the giant war. When I first started, I found that I did well, and it wasn't all that hard to learn after I had understood the basics. In fact, I had been champion.

Roundhouse, swipe, upper cut, jab, jump, knee, duck, lean back. I practice against an opponent who does not exist, as I merely practice. Or if you wished, I could say I had been fighting a never ending battle against the air. How pathetic that sounds, even to my own ears. I fight with a continuous stream of manoeuvres and techniques, not bothering to stop as I feel so very angry and frustrated. I found that I still hadn't gotten tired, even after not actually stopping. This is because the torture has helped to increase my endurance. This whole exercise had begun after I had took the initiative, after the talk with giant dude.

I suddenly come to a stop, before moving back down to the bed, sitting down crossing my legs in a position of mediation. I close my eyes, and I allow the clarity of this new world to accept me. This new world gives me greater insight into the microscopic world of water and its properties, giving me a second vision and sixth sense. I'm not a science person, as I haven't graduated with a scholarship to some prestigious school. I focus my vision and power on the moisture this cell possesses, focusing more closely on the molecules, particles and atoms that make it up. I force them together in compression, and I can visibly see them connect, to create ice. And I allow them to expand, creating water vapour/steam.

At first, this ability alone proves to be difficult, because its been such a long time since I've practiced with these abilities, and Poseidon had somehow disowned me. Just somehow. However, I still remain the son of the Sea even if not considered it, and so I still have dominion over water. But through a few minutes of practice, this power had returned properly and mastered. I could now use it at a greater, and deeper extent. I had almost became second nature to me, but not quite, as it had worked nine times out of ten.

This time, eyes still closed, I concentrated and tried to collect that moisture in greater masses, attempting to create shapes and objects in different forms. But this time I needed to concentrate on the bonds between the H2O particles. I needed them to remain together. I had to really put much effort into this, as its harder then most people think. I managed to actually do this and keep the links stable, so I moved onto another ability. I began guiding small objects and basic particle formations, using the hydrogen atom in the air particle. It's considerably harder for me. I soon created daggers, swords, blades of different types. I had also felt them in my hands, eyes still closed, feeling them change shape.

I managed to shut down the vision, blindly throwing the blades I did actually create against the cell wall, knowing no one is here to hear or see me do so. It's a good time to practice my throwing skills, and I did manage to hit targets. It did take some effort creating these, as the atmosphere in here seems to lack some water particles, because it remains so dry. I had found that once they were embedded into the wall with an audible sound, they would just evaporate and I would just start over. It was an easy process, but a hard one because it took up my energy.

I decided that it was best to quit and put my powers to better use. I extended my senses to an efficiency of %80, which is quite a lot. This gives me the ability to be able to sense and feel the different creatures with water surrounding their bodies, or the water their bodies possessed. This gave me a similar insight like the other sense, but this was different. I could sense a humanoid down the hallway, one that clearly is male in stature. I could basically see the outline on his body, and I now realise that he's a guard. And human at the very least. By his visible posture, it showed that he was clearly relaxed but alert. Well, let me see if he is prepared for this.

I decided to try an experiment, something that's risky. I walked to the wall and started hitting it. Loudly in fact. The idea was to draw him in. My senses were still extended, meaning that I'm multitasking. This lone statement is a surprise for sure. Once I had managed to draw him in, he called "Hello. Who is in there?" I remained as silent as possible, which comes with some difficulty on my part. His words echo, like his clearly youthful voice. He shouted, albeit quietly "Answer me now! On behalf of the Titan council, I command it!" I couldn't help but snicker quietly, mimicking his voice.

A growl emanated behind the door as he prepares to leave. Before he could do this, I knock against the door to re-gain his attention. He finally sighs, before I hear the locks of the door unlocking, before the door slid open. A flash light was shone within the room, but I was right against the surface of the front wall, right back against it. He caught sight of my unmade bed bad partially opened bedside drawers, but I do not worry. It may have been unplanned, but I decide to take advantage of it.

He steps in slowly, and flashes the torchlight, but in a blink of an eye I had the door shut, and using my powers, I forced his hand to drop the typical torch. Everything was dark, atmospheric tension thick with anticipation. I knew that I had probably scared him, but he still has to act brave. Even if he doesn't have have full control over his limbs. I could sense his body with my abilities, so I lunged. I wrapped my hand over his mouth, with the other arm around his waist. I whispered within his ear "Shh. We don't want to give away our little secret."

With a pull of my arm, I had his neck snapped, body limp. If y'all wandering about the collar, I've managed to master it by blocking out all of my thoughts from its access. It is now uncommon for me to actually receive a shock, which I'm glad about. I drop him on my bed, as he won't leave a blood stain, and I search his pockets for an identity. Only now do I see that he's got a red cloak, with special colours woven into the lining and fabric. Then it hit me. I laughed and muttered "Seriously, he's the commander? Surely not the commander of the royal guard could be that easy to take down."

I found a card, with his image printed on it. It showed his rank and full name. I swore under my breathe. "Shit. I'm fucked. Lets hope they don't find out in a long while then." But a phrase suddenly occurred to me, making me laugh. I said "Oh well, curiosity killed the cat. Or should I say, commander." I found a necklace around his chest, and accidentally tapped it. It was a vacuum, as it sucked up all his gear, including the cloak and armour. I fastened it around my neck, making it inconspicuous to the naked eye. I think it's meant to appear invisible. To which it is.

I felt something hot pressing hard against the underside of my left forearm, and I remove the sleeve to find a tattoo. Patterns seemed to rapidly swirl up my arm, and all I did was stare in awe. I lost track of it as it entered past my sleeve, into my torso but I could now see it glowing faintly. After whatever that had jut happened, I realise that all of my body is now covered in these tattoos of what ever they are. A word soon entered my mind: rune. These are runes? I had assumed this had been correct, as the marks died down but I found that I had a stronger sense of power. I sighed, touching the immortal's forehead. A spell seemed to run out of my mouth naturally, in a language similar to Latin. I had revoked his immortality, and took all of his power. I waved my hand, and his body dissolved until he was probably burning up in the river of fire.

I had once again sat back in my original position, sitting in a meditative posture on my cot, eyes once again closed. I found that my knowledge had increased, and I focused on my hands. Hoping to get anything. Something. What I got was better than expected. Much better. I could feel my hands catch alight, but I could feel a considerable dip into my power reserves. But my hands were ablaze, so it was successful in event of trial. This ability took much of my intense focus, and it took my power to keep it fuelled. But this will prove its use with time.

My eyes remained closed, within the darkness known as space, empty as it is. My eyes opened, and I smile had immediately graced my face, at this wonderful sight. My chest was puffed out as I beam at my new achievement. Because my hands are now ablaze with fire. Orange, yellow, red. It did light up the place, casting looming shadows over the room. My attention had once again been caught by another detail, as I caught sight of this thing over watching me. But most unfortunately, I can't tell of what.

I watched the fire dance across my fingertips, and along my palm. I had become all too fascinated thanks to my stupid mind, which tends to appreciate the basic things a little too much. A simple idea had formed in my mind, making a wicked grin appear on my face. I now have a plan of escape, meanwhile I focus on what I can do. I slowly focus on the temperature of the flame, willing the fire to rise in heat. It took the form of a blue hue, moving along my fingers. I could feel the winds fight against it, trying to put it out, but it seems to be holding steady.

I concentrated on the flame within my hands, but my will seemed to do nothing against these icicle winds. I decided to hope, so my concentration remained and I waved my hand, just hoping for the control to work. I had honestly thought that the mere action would provide fruitless results, but I sensed as much as I felt the winds die down around me. But once again, I feel tired with so much spent energy. I am more tired than usual, which I probably have the marks to blame. I had just impressed myself further, as I showed manipulation over two elements that are not my own. But this came with an extent. I sighed as I laid back down, still fascinated.

I knew I had limits, so I decided to test them. I shut my eyes closed as tightly as I could, and allowed my mind to wonder into another world. I whole new perception of the many realms. I could see the heat of the fire, coloured blue. And the rest of the world blurred into different shades of grey. With its astounding heat, but I knew that there were loads of other fire types that shouldn't exist. I imagined the fire to become malicious, with an unseen power with the ability to destroy metres with a speck. I imagined the colour representing it to be green. Slowly, like a colour wheel, blue mixed with another yellow flame to create the fire I like to call Greek Fire. It's intensity and brightness unmatched. But I am astonished, because this shouldn't even remain possible. You need components to make Greek Fire, it isn't quite natural. My eyes opened, wide eyed, because both hands were fully enveloped in Greek Fire. Malicious thoughts entered my head, and I didn't worry about the collar because I had developed an immunity.

I allowed the blaze to die down within my hands, because if I had sustained it for too long, my energy would have dropped severely. And indeed do I feel worn out. That last trick had cost me an abnormal amount of power, as I haven't come close to mastering it. Had I been the old me, I would have fainted a long way back. The torture helps for some things. like patience. But thankfully I'm not the old Percy Jackson. He's long gone, I tell you. He was a carefree and reckless boy with mercy and care, yet I am the opposite. I kill without a moments notice, for as long as there is a proper reason. I do realise that the guards will not be entering immediately, and I find no point in sleeping, I allow myself to drift into a rest, yet I remain alert and aware of my surroundings.

Once a am calm, and my eyes are soon shut, I direct my vision as I fall into the darkness known as the dream realm. The Cherokee mortals are said to find this place in their minds, and find their true inner selves. Right here, right here in my mind's dreaming realm, I reflect on everything within my mind's eye, that being my dreams whether they be normal or lucid or even erotic, and all events that grace my life. Right here is where my paradise is real and all my fantasies happen. Anything can happen in this world, anyone can exist. I divulge deeper into my dreams, in a thirsting quest for knowledge.

Here I reflect on the dreams I have had from the beginning of my imprisonment, all from the first day to the ones last night. Some remain repetitive, but others are predictions to someone's future, my past and the events right now. Then there are the ones offering me sneak peeks of the realms above. Whether they be death, life, heaven, earth. Those ones only happen every few months. I draw conclusions that I frown upon, because surely they aren't true. I almost wish to kill whomever has offered me these dreams, but they aren't to be blamed. But the settings almost seem real, with the textures I come across. Whether it be a fern brushing my knee, or the wind blowing at my face. They almost seem real as I relive them. I could take a mental snapshot of serenity.

I am most suddenly disturbed back into my reality, Tartarus. I realise this with a snarl on my face. As my eyes flash open, by a small jolt of the collar and someone knocking on the door. I know it's him, as only he would knock so joyously and rhythmically. He's meant to be quite the musician actually. I feel re-energised, thanks to the exercise. But that had also been the point, to raise energy levels once again. The lights in this cell are now turned on, temporarily blinding me with such a bright light until my eyes adjust, and I can see that the lights beyond the door are on, too. But that is much more difficult to tell. I sense three humans, one clearly a Titan with the amount of Ichor in his body.

I sighed, before sitting up. I called in exasperation "Yes Prometheus, I'm awake. You really don't need to knock. After all, you are one of the higher officers." The door edged open to its full limit, revealing three figures. In walked two of those, both guards with incredibly shiny weapons. Clearly updated, new and top-of-the-line-and-range rifles with attached accessories. I haven't seen that particular type of design before. Must be a really new one from the surface. I just wonder how those things get down here. They must have an agent or a cell of agents throwing them into a very deep hole.

I snarled in disgust when I came to see that they have red capes hanging off their polished armour, labelling them to be royal guards. I wonder how easy it would be to take them down if I could defeat their commander with such ease. It also showed in their armour, as it seemed to reflect light even when the materials shouldn't. Their posture obviously showed military training, and they could have once been mortals or demigods. I don't know. But I can feel their immortality. I decided to give them my most wicked grin, but they remained calm. But I did see a slight flicker in their eyes, unseen to most, that showed their fear. This caused my grin to widen.

They stood at attention, clearly having not been around Prometheus all that often. In he walked, with his black suit and shiny shoes, that seemed to also reflect light. I'm beginning to think anything could reflect that light. They were all tidy and arranged, all up to his standard. My lip curls in disgust, because he takes such a passive attitude towards the prison. His suit always remains clean as well, in such a depressing place. And I'm almost sure that he cares more about the suit as well. He even has the audacity to openly show his disgust towards the prisoners. Even if I'm the exception.

The guards eyed me warily as Prometheus waved his hand dismissively, leaving them at ease. I raised an eyebrow towards the guards, saying "I have never seen you with the Royal Guard, Prometheus. Even in my presence, where I could be so unpredictable, and I could choke you with my powers over water. And don't forget that I'm a swordsman far above your caliber, even if I'm not as good as Titan Lords or the General. And I'd probably win in most other forms of battle. This must be a special day, or a lucky one." He clearly doesn't understand that I had indirectly insulted him.

A grin had appeared on his face in return, with his arrogance shining through. He said "Well, today is certainly a special day, for you. I'll have you know that the Guard only accompany Titans and giants when absolutely necessary, which isn't all that often. But it does happen, whether you know it or not. These recruits are new, thrown in here by the gods of Olympus. But today, they figured you might be a bit of a handful… with your new, umm, friend. I won't spoil it by telling you who."

That is why he is so arrogant. He's attempting to taunt me, but its failing. Or he's trying to get me to somehow break down. That explains their training. I turned to face them, still grinning. "Legionnaires from New Rome, huh?" They blinked in disbelief, and it turns out that my educational guess was correct. I could see the hatred burning in their eyes, and I could only shake my head in disappointment. I decided to forget about it, raising an eyebrow, standing up. "Why would that be?" I asked. He sighed, "You'd probably try to run me through with a weapon once you find out who it is." Was his reply. I shrugged, but the guards stepped forward and cuffed me.

They kept their weapons away from me, at a distance, wisely so. I could probably have them disarmed quickly, with a few basic yet effective techniques. I could see their weapons shaking unsteadily in their hands, rapidly shaking side to side. Most likely my reputation or their nerves had gotten to them. Or both. I could basically see their anticipation, even if I am not facing their own bodies. It shows all in their movements. They are either really anxious, or beyond scared. They really are juniors, because I'm sure more experienced guards wouldn't let a petty little reputation get to them. Nor would I be able to sense their emotions.

They took my shoulders carefully, as their weapons were now strapped to their backs, and picked me up without care and like most guards that have previously had the blessing to have me, pushed me forward. Luckily I have got gotten used to this, so I had been able to keep my balance and remain on my feet. I had been given new shoes, or should I say boots? I got the pair because I had managed to last in here for a long time, as a 'red-blooded human'. They're combat boots, like the ones the normal guards wear.

Our heavy tread could be heard across the many halls, the prison cells void of inmates, causing our steps to echo in the silence. We gradually reach hallways filled with prisoners, and those prisoners stay back cautiously, after seeing the guards, but I still wave to the fan base of prisoners I had acquired. They nervously waved back, their eyes darting between the guards, Prometheus and I. After a few minutes of this, the guard on my left flank had pushed me forward with a bit more force than necessary, but I had ignored that and managed to disguise an unexpected punch in the face. His partner snickered, as did Prometheus. I broke his nose.

I stood over him in mock apology, pouting mockingly. "I am so sorry. I did not see you nor sense you there as you shoved me forward. Maybe next time you'll reconsider letting your frustration getting the better of you, hmm?" Cue the further snickers, and pointed expression from him. I felt his muscles tense, and I stared. Allowing him to see the dangerous fire in my eyes. He flinched, but decided to glare instead. He clutched his nose as it leaked golden blood, Ichor. Looks like you don't have to do much to earn immortality now.

I turned around with a victorious smirk, continuing to walk away with a confident swagger, hopefully with the others following me. Prometheus quickly caught up with his large and fast stride, and the others were forced to run to catch up. Now it was Prometheus leading, with the two guards behind me, in tow. I asked in my most nonchalant voice "Prometheus, can you tell me who the being you are referring to is?" We were just strolling through the halls at a leisurely place.

He moved his body slightly to face me, still walking. "I will not tell you just yet. I will only offer a hint: he's one of your glorious friends from the Titan War. He hates you. Think about the Battle of Manhattan. Then you will discover his identity." This thought made me think carefully, as the most sly of grins had appeared upon his face. And I had the feeling that I knew who it is. There are only a few I can actually think of, that I haven't already meant. I hope it isn't any of the beings I can think of.

We walk through the halls at the most brisk of paces, and it remains silent as I reflect on who it could possibly be. Even the guards behind me and inmates do not talk, as I solely concentrate on my thoughts. Our steps continue to reverberate throughout the halls that we walk. The flames of the wall's torches flicker, but do not go out. I only know a few people powerful enough, males limit it, and the battle of Manhattan makes it less then three. They're Titans.

We walk along the concrete paths, and our feet crunch against the gravel paths. This would mean that they're saving expenses by using natural resources. But I do note that we are using intersections today, which is both new and surprising for me. I haven't even seen or heard of intersections existing here, in the time I have been down here. Must be a new or undiscovered sector of this prison, one I could take advantage of. So, I begin mapping it out in my head. It'll provide some use when I'm going to escape this place. I've got a key. That'll help.

We slowly enter a completely unfamiliar block of cells, and I begin to hear the mutters of the insane. I can hear them mutter unfamiliar names in longing, or ones spoken with such hate. The flames on the torches seemed to flicker more rapidly, with sounds. It soon became the sight of an insane asylum, and this seriously must just be for effect. I thought that people this way might actually be okay, but I was wrong. I wonder if they were tortured like me. Or were deprived of a necessity in their lives. Of the basic things like food and water, or something a tiny bit more complex, like their lovers.

I couldn't possibly pity them, because I have a new code. It's 'life is hard, deal with it'. The fates don't offer you mercy, nor did they offer me any. You're here for a reason, even if they happen to be wrong. You shouldn't want pity, or offer it. The same applies for all forms of sympathy and pity. This is my home, whether I accept it or not. I still couldn't look into their eyes, because I will see their broken souls. That will be too much to bear. You look into my eyes and you see why I'm dangerous, why I'm wild. You see that I am not insane or crazy, either. My plans for revenge are sadistic and wicked, and no one will stop me.

I still stare at the gore of their blood soaking the walls of their cells. I remain unsure and unaware if this is my reality, or my mind's eye. I do not wish to know. I see more. I see slit wrists, destroyed limbs. I find the eyes of the wary, and the bile of the ill. Reality to me varies. We reach the Chamber in what feels like hours. It could easily be less, with the effects of time yet to wear off. The door remains closed, but I can see the silhouette of a giant illuminating it, with bright armour, and a sword.

I now realise who the being the Titan next to me is talking about. He hates me more than most. I curse aloud, not really paying attention to my collar. He's much worse than the collar. The door slides open, to reveal a figure of a giant man, with golden bright armour, but we had to glance away because this form alone rivalled a god's divine form. And it's especially bright here. His harsh booming laugh could be heard as he said "Welcome to your new hell and home, Perseus Jackson." With that, I was tossed in, door locking behind me and Hyperion had me chained upon the table.

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It has been years. Most certainly. I'm sure I've been in here for years. I can't remember. I might be going insane. In here. Alone. With no one. Or stuck with Hyperion, the Titan of Light and Lord of East. He has got command over anything and everything in the east, including Asians. Don't ask how I know, because I met one. Scary thought that is. Anyway, like I've been repetitively saying, I've been stuck in her for an exceptional amount of time. And not once have I been let out. The door had always remained shut, and I know because of the Titan's constant emission of light. I've had to stay awake, as I couldn't sleep.

And yes, he's been stuck in here with me. I heard his frustration when I would fire my ever-flowing stream of sarcastic comments at his face. He even banged on the door. And tried to ram it. I also got to learn more about him when he wasn't constantly torturing me, and we would have civil conversation. But he had managed to torture me everyday - sometimes apologetically so - which I tolerate even if I get close to snapping. He couldn't do much in other torture methods but his powers over fire and light were actually quite sufficient. And I know he enjoys it.

But one day, he had asked out of the blue "Anyway, brat, how did you end up here? I've been told nothing since in escaped the Maple Tree in Central back and I had thought that you were that council's precious pawn of a hero. I've told you about myself, and I find that you should do the same in turn. Since we will most likely be stuck in here for a while. I thought 'why not', you know? I just want to know more about how you got stuck down here in Tartarus, with us."

I found myself agreeing and nodding. "Well, there isn't much to say, really. After the giant war, I had thought that everything was fount to be fine, but I happened to be wrong. Those campers except a few turned their backs on me for a brat, and so I left. I went to Olympus looking for a purpose, and I find that I'm blamed for something I couldn't possibly commit with my fatal flaw. They sent me here. In my anger, just before being sent here, I created a storm and probably could've destroyed them with the level of that storm. Now I hate then."

Hyperion had only nodded, saying "Yes, those brats are like that. Except Hestia. Maybe Hades as well. No one could possibly hate Hestia. Anyway, I am apologetic for their actions, if it holds any value. But now you have peaked my curiosity. Would you mind telling me about your own life?" I did exactly that. From then on, we found a mutual respect for each other, and we no longer hate each other. Right now, my friend had finished his tortures, stopping to sit down on a chair. We sat there, staring at each other creepily. I sighed, asking "Wassup, Hyper?"

Yes, we had created nick names. He replied "I sense an end to this fun, my friend." I had raised an eyebrow, before there was a knock at the door. We froze, wide eyed, because the hadn't been knocked in a long time. In fact, not once had the door been knocked in my residence here. Hyperion called "Yes, who is it?" There was a sadistic laugh on the other side of the door, until it opened. I found myself staring at the being who had haunted many of my dreams.

He said "Hello, brother." He turned to face me with an expression mixed between a grin and a grimace. He said "It's pleasant seeing you here, grandson. We'll get to know each other better. I hope you'll enjoy our bonding time," I am staring into the golden eyes of Kronos, most powerful Titan and their king. "Because you're stuck with me."

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**Please note that this chapter may prove to be valuable to the future plot line. I'm trying to have an original 'take' on Percy-sent-to-Tartarus. So, I'm looking for inspiration for future chapters. **


	3. Connections

**Disclaimer; I don't own ****_Percy Jackson and the Olympians _****or ****_Heroes of Olympus. _****Thats because Rick Riordan does. I don't even own the whole situation I'm writing about. Any original characters are mine to take, however.**

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**A/N: Thanks for all the support, guys. But I want more ideas. And guess what? Percy's no where near escaping Tartarus, or powerful enough. In this chapter, am I sick or what? Anyway, originally portrayed characters are out of character, by my point of view. This chapter doesn't hold anything completely relevant to the story, just explaining how he's doing so far and introducing a ****possible**** character. Oh, and there's the end bit. I'm sorry if you don't like it, it isn't as good as you expected it to be, or it isn't to same standard. It'll probably remain boring. Either way, leave your thoughts with me! I appreciate reviews. Don't like the story, tell me! Don't like the direction of the story? Scream it in CAPITAL LETTERS, in reviews or P.M.**

**A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G ****A-P-P-R-E-T-I-A-T-E-D**

**Also, if you are reading this, I ask that you join me in me search for a front cover image! Something suitable, please.**

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Chapter 3: Connections

What is that Titan planning? What is to become of me? When will this torture end? These are the questions I ask myself as I consider possible theories, but none of them end well. None. My thoughts now tend to drift off to the memories of the fun he's had with me. By 'he' I mean the Titan King, also Lord of Time, Kronos. Oh how I would do best to forget those. My life is now nothing, as I have nothing to live for. If I fight, I fight as hard as I can because essentially, I have nothing to live for. Most unfortunately. He isn't to blame, however.

Sometimes, I feel the memories that had kept my soul intact for so long begin to disappear into oblivion or they tend to pass the reach of my grasp, as they were the ones that have kept me going for a rather long time. These are the memories to keep my sanity, and at the thought of losing them, I assure you that what I see in the future for myself isn't bright. They might be any particular thing really, it might be the fact that I have so many mindless followers who admire me as some heroic figure or the fact that I'm too precious to die. At least, that's what Kronos said.

I moan and groan aloud in complaint, as the pain finally sets in my wake, shooting up my spine because I've had a new experience. This torture was designed to break people literally. I've had immortal beings sit on my back, and I am forced to arch it to bear all of the pain. Since I am mortal, my spine is nearly snapped each time because no mortal was designed for such an act. It's slightly more bearable for me, as I'm half-god. It's pure torture, with so much godly weight relying heavily on a certain part of your back. It's almost like holding the sky. Not quite, but its close.

That's one of the more creative tortures Kronos has in mind, but it isn't the worst by a fair length. It is far from the worst, its just more physical then demeaning or mental. And there has been no shortage of volunteers for him to chose from. Trust me when I state this: the female immortals, especially the ones to consider me attractive, have been more than eager to participate. But all that I could have possibly done was sit there and grit my teeth in brief flashes of anger and much pain. I wouldn't be able to stand with such pressure. I know they want more, as its all in their lusting gazes. I happen to do that to a lot of people who live down here, and I do that to people or girls in general. I remember carrying Juno across the River Tiber and losing the Curse or the Blessing of the river Styx, and I prefer that over this ten times out of ten.

I decided to roll over, but instead I fall onto the ground with a solid thump, falling off the wooden plank fastened to the wall with Celestial Bronze chains and fixtures of some sort that are charmed in some way, so they can be indestructible. Its like the ones you'll see in the old-style movies, wooden boards that can be folded back against the wall. This particular contraption serves as my bed. If it can be classified as that. My new cell is basically a cage, as it could have been physically implanted into the ground that way. I swear that I can see where the dirt covers the metal flooring.

The back wall, or the only actual wall is just some brick wall made out of a cheap stone that seems to be really common down in this place, easily accessible. The other three walls are just filled with bars spaced out at even intervals, made out of Imperial Gold, which is also charmed to remain indestructible, even if I find that unlikely. Imperial Gold is extremely volatile, and it doesn't take an extreme amount of pressure to make it blow up. Actually, that last fact isn't quite right. It won't explode at a touch, as you need to be pretty strong to physically destroy it.

Maybe a punch from an angry giant would be enough, but then again I've seen Kronos chuck a tantrum in here with nothing happening. Lets say I happened to be the certain someone to spark his emotions with my sarcastic comments. Maybe they really are indestructible. The roof, well, it's made of the same stuff as the back wall, which may be cheap, but its more than sufficient in use. The torch lights in the walkway that run through the cells illuminate them with orange flames, casting consistently swaying shadows that move through the darkness. With nothing else to do, I find myself staring at the flames with some hidden intent, and I seem to draw the outlines of their shadows.

The prisoners in the cages around me say nothing and cast looks my way, glancing at my new tattoo in curiosity and awe. I guess these guys know about it more then I. Or they understand the basic principles. I could hear them mutter spells in Latin, summoning things like balls of energy and manipulating the elements to an extent that the torch fire sways drastically, and the shadows envelop them until they can no longer be seen. However, these aren't as well manipulated as demigods. Captured Mages, I assume. But all spells fail against Imperial Gold. Even those who trace runes, they too fail. The runes are merely repelled.

I stand up, stretching my possibly broken bones. Kronos always leaves his surprises. He's known for his trickery and deceit. I wonder if Loki and him are somehow related. Yes, Loki. Norse god. Met him down here. Not a nice man. Or sane one. Even by godly standards. Anyway, I have to focus on the positives. Like the simple fact that I'm no longer wearing the shock collar. But the thing is, he knows that he'll break me. I can't deny it. It is the only matter of when, and all I know is that is in the not-so-distant future. I have had enough premonitions to know that it will happen soon, if I do not find a way of escape. A thing you should already know about Kronos is that he may rely on trickery and deceit, but he can be merciless and harsh if he so chooses. I liked it before when he was actually pretty weak in comparison to his normal power.

Another thing I should add: he's only here and reformed because he had the assistance of his mother, and Prometheus had set a few incantations in his coffin. Another thing to curse Gaia for. I've seen some of his actual abilities, ones that are too dangerous to even mention. I could not tell you how they work either. That's why I don't wear the collar. I am merely a speck in power against Kronos. I would not stand a chance, as a demigod. But I'm discovering more abilities all the time. I dare say that challenging Ares and winning in a fully fledged contest is far beyond doubt. Or most gods.

The Big Three, not likely. I'm not that full of myself to think that I would stand a chance against them in battle. I'm soon not worrying about this as I begin drown in my sorrows. With the mention of those gods, memories appear in my head. These memories are rather unpleasant, must I add. These bring up further memories of my previous friends, further torturing me as I watch the images unfold in my head. Tears come close to rolling down my eyes. This is the worst torture he can offer, directly or indirectly. He may remain unaware as to what these memories are, or he isn't even aware of them haunting my dreams.

My fatal flaw was loyalty, and there is two ways that could possibly make this type of loyalty fatal. One possible way has already been stated by the Wisdom Goddess. This way makes it fatal through devotion. I would chose the ones I love over saving the world. But thankfully that didn't happen. The second one is means through abuse of trust. I offer all my loyalty to a person or particular people, and they use it through going behind my back and betray me in a sense. I am thrown away, heart shattered. The second is the worst to me. And the latter is what got me stuck in here and so bitter.

I found myself laying back against the cold wall, creating an even greater list of names to exact my revenge upon, so that I was doing something productive in my time, instead of acting so pathetically and giving up. But this can only happen if I escape, and the mortals might be dead. Oh well, then I'll travel to Hades to get what I want. I sincerely don't know if they'll be dead or not. They might just still be alive. I still can't figure how time works down here. All I know is that my tortures are steadily getting worse, and I'm missing a few parts of my body.

I heard a hushed whisper "Oi, you. The one with vengeful thoughts that I'd hate to be the victim of, or target." I glanced around, until I realised that the Mage in the cage next to me was looking at me. I stared quizzically, and he said in answer "Yes, you. Who else am I talking to, the wall?" He sounds like me when I was a sarcastic annoyance, before I was in here. Oh wait, I still am rather sarcastic. I replied "Well, judging by the state of these people, you could be talking to the wall." It was meant to sound sarcastic, however the way I had phrased it made me sound like a smartass.

He rolled his eyes. "Another one of them, are you?" He asked in a questioning, and exasperated tone. I laughed and said "Depends what you mean by 'them'. I've been in here so long I feel like I know longer know who I am. Now, what business do you have with me?" He shrugged and said "When I mean 'them' I mean half-blood. Are you? And who is that golden eyed guy?" Ignorance is bliss. I said with a bitter smile "I'm Percy Jackson. But can you tell me where we are?" He shook his head, a frown creasing his face. I said "We're in hell, my friend. But yes, I'm a demigod. I like to call it Tartarus, and that guy who comes to take me away is the Titan King Kronos."

He went into silence for a while, before saying in an incredulous tone, halo of thought over his head, "Percy Jackson? Tartarus? Kronos? As in Greek Mythology? You're Perseus Jackson. That's just, oh wow." He looked close to fainting. I raised an eyebrow. "You've heard of me?" He seemed to remain surprised. "Have I heard of you? The very famous Hero of Olympus? How could I not? You're name and reputation have spread far beyond your mythologies, demigod. I knew you were special, but I didn't know you were him." Okay. I have to ask. "How long have you been here?"

He seemed to think. "Judging by the approximate daily cycle - but then again, this place is so deep in the earth they don't really have nights and days - and how many marks are on this cell symboling one day, I've been here…" I could see his brain ticking over in calculation. "… 7 years, 11 months, 25 days, 19 hours, 56 minutes and 30 seconds, as of… now! This, of course, is assuming that a month is 30 days in length and the daily cycle remains the same as the surface. But you wouldn't think so. This is, however, only approximate. Local time."

Then a sentence he had said caught my attention. I asked in my tone of accusation. "You said that I was special before actually knowing. What do you mean, 'special'?" My eyes had narrowed in suspicion. He froze, blinking. He glanced around inconspicuously, before making a gesture for me to come closer to his cell. I did as requested, standing up and walking to bars, sitting on the ground. He said in a hushed tone "Perseus, that mark that has appeared on your arm is a special one. I cannot divulge deeper into information in fear of getting caught but I will say this: that mark will remain with you for eternity. Nothing short of a divine angel of the heavens could possibly remove it. Even then, its still difficult. Your abilities will far surpass any sorcerer, Mage, wizard or witch of any type in all aspects of magic and you will also receive other god-like abilities. You might even surpass the divine sorceress witch Circe, or Hecate. Manipulating the traditional elements is only a scratch on the surface. No more will be revealed, however I will help you achieve these abilities by giving you this."

He carefully reached into his tunic and pulled out a necklace with a little charm at the end. A stele. He reached out through the bars, and surprisingly nothing happened. I took it from his grasp, and pulled it over my neck. I felt the power it poses, and I could feel the possible abilities that I could come to bear. He said "This stele will help you access some of the more basic spells and runes. Like healing factors, and materials. There are others, but you will learn in time. It's best I go now."

He gave one last smile before scuttling off, mumbling things under his breath. His hands ignited into flames, and he sat back down onto his bed. At least I have another friend. I think. I moved away, making sure to cover any possible identifiers of me being there. I went back to my position of leaning back against the wall, staring at the flames with some purpose. This time my thoughts were consumed with curiosity, because I really want to know some of my abilities. My hands seemed to light up by themselves, fire dancing at my fingertips. I felt exceptionally better than most would think, however surprising that may be. I'm used to it by now.

With hope, there is depression. The toleration and cheeriness doesn't last long for me. My eyes droop, until they are closed. My depression overcomes any hope, and I begin to cry. Tears stream down my face, as I find I can no longer control them, and my face falls into my hands. Wretched, pitiful sounds escaped my throat into the word of speech, as everything comes to set in. Never again, if I ever escape, will I be whole again. Never will I be complete. My will crumbles, and all my hurt escapes me. I let it out, with freedom. For once in my time down here, I cry.

A hear the most odd of sounds. I cannot describe it, but my best assumption would have to be the strangled cry of an angel, if that were to ever happen. But angels do not exist, they should not. It was one where they yearn for their lover, and I swear it was feminine. How can I tell, I am unsure. My neck tingles with warm breath, and a faint, holy scent is left as slender arms wrap around my body. My eyes flash open in a sudden movement, heart beating at a rapid and unsteady pace. I find nothing, had I been expecting anything at all. That was only my imagination. I just imagined that. But the feather left on my stomach says otherwise.

My eyes didn't fall closed as I just stared through the cage, into the next. My eyes never made contact with the inmate, as my stare was blank. All the while, my body did not move, even when finding itself in discomfort. This is all I did for quite possibly hours, as there is nothing more productive or interesting to do. My mind was just empty, all thoughts having left it a long time ago. Even my head didn't move an inch, or any of my muscles. My eyeballs stared at the spot for such a long time, it was beginning to hurt. Had it been a stranger observing me, they may have thought that I'm some statue or they might just think that I am dead. I am dead on the inside.

Even with the faint sounds of the Mages trying to create spells that could help them escape, even if it is not going to happen any time soon. For them to destroy the bars, they need to have the knowledge of the reversal spell. Or at least something that could possibly deactivate or cancel out the spell. I spell like that isn't really hard, but it can remain hazardous if there happens to be a combination of spells. With the mispronunciation of a single word, it could change the meaning completely. Or if they use a word that means the same, but in another context.

This knowledge seems to come with the stele, or I have triggered something in the back of my mind. My intelligence is greater than most expect. After a while, my body feels like it has gone numb for remaining in the same position for such a long amount of time. My skin tingled, and I could only distantly feel my toes through nothing. My hands turned limp at my sides, and I tried to move them. That failed. Remind me to never remain in a position too long. Someone, at random, might come wandering in. And use my position to their advantage.

The numb pain of my body does slowly and gradually recede, and I make sure to stand up and stretch my bones, before settling back down into the same position. Kronos, or at least a guard will be here in a moment, as no day goes without torture. That's one of the first things Kronos taught me. And I was correct, but the 'who' part came as a surprise to say the least. It was because they happened to be a she, with only one very confused guard. And she was completely unfamiliar. In no way do I know her, I swear it. Even if I'd like to get a piece of her…

Perseus, stop thinking like that! I scolded myself, because I shouldn't be having those thoughts. Then again, I have been alone for so long, and I haven't seen a girl at a similar age in a long time. Not in a long time, at least. With her appearance. Let me give you a picture: she seems to be slightly younger in appearance, possibly 18. Her black hair flows loosely below her chest, untied. Her figure is slender and petite, with curves for a man to drool over. Her facial features could be considered royal, as they are hard but not completely void of the roundness a child might have. Her eyes are a shade of blue, glowing brightly like mine in the darkness of Tartarus. There were other shades floating in her eyes, too. Her gaze was piercing, yet strangely familiar. Her face is flawless, and tanned. Her nose isn't flat, but it isn't long. She is wearing shorts that extend a few inches above her knees, showing me her pretty legs. She only wore a shirt that went far below the neckline, revealing a good-size portion of her bra.

I found myself staring, and aroused. I'm finding that only a few particular things can make me have these thoughts. I cough, as I catch sight of my pants. The girl said, slightly annoyed, "Perseus Jackson, please stand up and come over here. You are to be taken to Kronos immediately. The guard is most impatient." I stood up and strolled over to the door as it was unlocked and opened. The grin never left my face. If she's my escort, I won't be that unhappy. I exited the cage, and only now can I feel her aura. Intimidating. Malicious. There was a flash in her eyes, but she turned her head and began walking, covering my view of her eyes with her hair.

I was steered along by the guard with his annoyingly bright crimson cloak, but I had to speed up to reach her, with her long, fast-paced strides. I asked "Are you new here? I know I haven't seen you around, because I find you hard to miss." She shook her head, but I could feel her rolling her eyes. "No, I'm not. We both know that. Kronos wouldn't leave a newbie with only one guard to handle a fighter like you. It'd be suicide." She seemed to be moving exceptionally close to me. I only now noticed her voice. It was one with the typical youth you'd find in any adolescent, but it was mature as well. It was melodic, and it was just beautiful. Only now do a realise that the girl in front of me is a goddess. No one is this perfect, if this was a story or book I could call her Mary-Sue. I decided to stare down at her, seeing if this will change her demeanour.

I asked "What is your name, beautiful?" I decided to piss her off, or at least attempt to. She sighed and said "You'll find out later, but please don't call me by one of those pet names. Otherwise you might find a figure looming over you, dagger in hand. And you won't die, because you aren't always given mercy in life." I have no doubt that if she chose to, she could. We walked in silence, passing people I only vaguely recognise and enter corridors that look pretty dusty to me. Clearly not used all that often. I feel as if that I myself have seen most of the corridors in this prison, by the many times I've traveled it.

She had been purposely walking slowly, in front of me, grinding ever so noticeably against my body. The temptations are there, and awfully hard to resist. My hormones might just win the battle, with my body fighting on the same side, both against me. She must have noticed me poking at her through my attire, because her cheeks seemed to redden considerably. Our paced had slowed, and I could see over her shoulder. I tried to ignore, however, my perverted gaze was drawn there, body responding to the sight.

The guard just walked and stared at us suspiciously. He failed to notice what either of us had been doing. Still are doing. She whispered "I already have you hard against my skin, huh? They said demigods were horny like their immortal parents, but I didn't know it would only need this," she gestured to herself, "to get you excited. But then again, I should be honoured that its the oh very loyal child of the Sea, Perseus Jackson. The nearly perfect hero that all demigods should aspire to be. Don't forget he's pretty handsome, too." Adding a squeeze of my man part for emphasise. I almost laughed at the last part.

I ground my hips slowly, allowing my hands to wander further down her body, brushing against her backside. Her body shivered as a whole. I could see her biting her lip. I spoke in her ear, whispering in a tone most sultry "You know, that doesn't just apply to me. But then again, you are probably dressing like that to attempt to seduce me. It's working. You know what? I think I'll have a piece of you when I get the chance. But can you blame me? I haven't had human contact in a large amount of time, especially with a woman. I had almost forgotten what my friends look like. Especially the female ones." What is happening to ME?!

Sure, I have come close to letting my body control me in the presence of immortals, but this has never happened. This shouldn't be happening. But I also feel something untoward, something I cannot point out. I could tell that it is centred around the mysterious girl in front of my eyes. I can feel her warmth, but it isn't an experience I have ever felt. Her body feels like the earth's core, with its flowing magma. The heat comes at me at an incredible rate, in waves of energy. I do also notice that her form tends to flicker into another, this remains slight, however.

My body has a completely different process of actions or thoughts, as my hands seem to move themselves, exploring this girl's body with subtle touches. She did nothing but encourage them, leaning back into my chest and letting out small moans and occasional hisses of pleasure. My body only forced itself closer towards her own. The firelight only hid our movements from the guard that remains beside us, with rapidly changing shadows that never leave a hand in a single place. He failed to notice some of our most obvious movements.

Time goes by, and we soon find ourselves at a steel sliding door lined with blessed metals like Stygian Iron, similar to my original torture chamber but different, because there was a lone viewing window. It looked difficult to access, and that is most probably the point. I could see into the chamber slightly with the window, but the firelight reflected off its surface, making it even more difficult to see. I only saw darkness, no torches or tables or the like. It intrigued me as to why Kronos would chose such a place. It is just not his style.

The girl turned to the guard and said "You are dismissed. You will be summoned later. Go continue whatever duties you have, guard." He grunted in reply and drawled sarcastically "Yes, ma'am." He crossed his arms and I could feel his glare, and hear his teeth grind. He said through forced teeth. "Have fun in there." His stare turned cold and he strolled off.

The door in front of us slid open with a creak, causing me to raise an eyebrow once again. I thought all doors were oiled. The girl said from my side "Please, you go in first. I have something I must show you." I did not understand why this has anything to do with her actual task, but I entered the gaping opening that lead into the void of darkness. I walked in without guidance, and I could feel the dirt beneath my feet. My footsteps remained silent, and I kept walking. There was a smell I could not place, either.

I walk towards the distance, to which I could spot colours. Vivid and strong colours, glowing and reflecting off rocks. Hands pulled in front of my waist, forcing me to stop. There was a simultaneous shout of "Stop! Hold up!" I only noticed it when I looked down. In instinct, I stepped back. Why? There was an abnormally dark crevasse, that extends far down beneath the ground. I look further down, squinting, and I see an orange river. Of smouldering hot lava that could possibly fry me in my skin. I'm not completely immune to lava. Thanks for the warnings sea demons!

I look away, looking in the Girl's eyes and realising it had been her who had saved me. My gratitude and appreciation grew. I could see that she had caught herself off-guard, by saving me. It would have been much easier to let me fall to my death. I'm sure Kronos would praise her for it. After all, I had refused him what he wanted multiple times, that being my mortal soul and the joy of seeing me in pain. I could not have that. That would initially please him. If I was killed here, my soul would be forever entrapped in Tartarus, and Kronos would get what he wants.

That won't be happening. She was by my side, saying "You must remain careful from here on in. The surface is fragile, and your heavy tread may make it give way. Remain careful where you step, and don't ever look down. If you look down, with your rotten luck, something awful will happen. And I have to warn you, if you do fall down, you won't immediately die. Your body will slowly descend towards the earth's core, slowly burning up and disintegrating as it falls. As will your soul. No Hades for you." Her face was serious. No lies here.

She walked us to a point where there were 2 bridges. Both looked equally unstable. Oh how it would have been so much easier if there was only a bridge or just a cliff, back in the old days. Oh how life was once so simple. One bridge had vertical wooden planks, and ropes spanning across the gaping hole. The other one had stone platforms that ascend from the darkness below. They seemed to be corroding away with its depths. They both look rather old. I frown upon the sight.

She talks in the most assuring tone she could conjure up. "Don't worry, the bridges are stronger than they look. Well, I can't speak for Gary. They should be able to hold your weight. If they can't, well, bad luck for you." No love here, I see. As if this was a daily occurrence, she walked over the first bridge in a few mere strides. I hesitate. She calls out "Are you chicken, Perseus Jackson? Oh come on, this isn't by far the worst thing you have faced. Oh sure, there's the chance of falling to non-existence, but it isn't all that bad. Right?" Her words echo through he chamber.

"You know, I do kind of value my life. That would be such a horrible shame if I were to perhaps slip…" My words also echo in response. In truth, I was trying to stall as my brain worked a million miles per hour, determining the chance of survival through each. I got this new ability after receiving the mark. I'm trying to keep it secret. In fact, I'm trying not to reveal that my agility is far better than when I first entered this place. I could see her impatience. My brain finally calculated percentages, and I chose the second one. Because my eyes have revealed to me that this one will be slightly less risky. Haven't you seen the movies?

I leapt from platform to platform, making sure to never once look down in fear of bringing a jinx upon myself. It's happened multiple times. If the camera panned out of my face, it would probably be a magnificent sight to a bystander, who gets to sit back and have no involvement in this, whatsoever. Thankfully, I had reached the other side before the count of ten. I breathed a sigh of relief, because I hate being in those kind-of lost-in-oblivion situations. She drawled her words sarcastically "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" I don't appreciate the tone. I replied with an equal amount of sarcasm. "Oh, yeah. Sunflowers and pansies."

We continued on walking, me following behind her so I can copy her movements. Those steps almost led to my death which, no, I am not happy about. We walked through what I have labelled a minefield, because there is a bomb to every square metre I walk. She had also stated this at the beginning of our trip. Do not ask how I am aware and believing, either. All I will say was that it hurt, and I have a larger collection of injuries. I still don't get how a room could be so large. My brain isn't doing the best right now. At least my injuries heal at a greater speed, now.

For what seems like hours, and evading a few traps along the way, we were finally at the river bank. We were sitting down, staring into the beautiful surface of such a thing. She clears her throat, causing me to arch an eyebrow in question. The girl asked me, "Do you know what the river is called?" I merely shook my head. I have nothing to say. She replied "This is the River Phlegethon, the river of fire. 'Flaming' happens to be its translation." I sighed, scolding myself for realising that piece of information. I said "You wouldn't have expected it. But I do know the quote."

She continued on. "The quote from the Iliad was "a stream of fire, which coils round the earth and flows into the depths of Tartarus". You can never always rely on your eyes alone. They tend to be unreliable. What you see is merely its cover, not its inner depths. It may look beautiful on the surface, but if you focus deep within, you will understand my words. This river also appeals to people, and no being can control it. At least, to my knowledge. It has this one other ability, as it runs from deep with the earth, further down, extending to the centre of the universe itself. It offers you the ability to relive a moment, or re-meet a person from your memories."

I do not here her remaining words, because I am already focusing on the river. I feel its power, and a picture enters my mind. One that makes me smile. Nothing else really comes into my mind, quite possibly because my mind is too injured to conjure anything else. My thoughts couldn't possibly be swayed, because it has been so long. This memory is something that doesn't occur often now, because my mind can never have enough will power to focus. And when it did, I had broke down into tears, without mercy. The hateful thoughts return.

My eyes open, and my mouth opens in a gasp, because standing in front of me is Annabeth Chase. As young and beautiful as the day I saw her. Wait, she looks exactly like my memory. A smile graced her face, lighting me up positively. We stared into each other's eyes, and remained that way until we were interrupted by a growl. "Annabeth Chase, are you stupid? You could do so much better, and you would if you knew what she's doing right now. Get over her, because you have already been forgotten. They have all moved on, hero. You will do best to do that too."

I blinked, and my hand unconsciously reached out to caress Wise Girl's face. Tears were leaking down my face. My hand passed right through her body, and she began to disperse. I cried out in desperation "Please don't leave me again." Her expression was blank as she faded away. I collapsed, openly weeping. I had promised to myself that I wouldn't let anyone see my tears, but I have broken that. It's twice now that I've let tears escape my eyes. I don't offer my tears to Kronos, because that would remain satisfactory for him.

I felt soft hands around my neck, and I glanced up. I found the girl who I don't even know the name of hugging me, me sitting on her lap, me in front of her. I don't know how we ended in this position. One hand moved down, and it attacked my lower chest viciously. I could feel her hot breath on my neck. Whispers carry through my ears. "Perseus, I know you are attracted to me. I could feel your lingering gaze, and might I ask, why do you think I was encouraging your behaviour? I want you, and you want me. It's that simple. Give in."

To further emphasise her point, teeth nibbled at the tender skin of my neck. I could barely contain the moans begging to escape my lips. I'm unaware as to how someone's attitude can change so drastically, in such a small amount of time. I somehow managed to stutter "N-no. I h-have A-a-annabeth. I can't d-do this." She gave a disappointed sigh, still not giving up. "How many times must this be started? None of those campers really care, and not even your immortal supporters have tried to offer their support. In their eyes, you are disposable, including the girl. Her pride will get to her, like her mother's did. But to me - us - you are invaluable. Precious."

Next thing I know, we are lying next to each other, clutching the other. I was holding back tears, because I never intended on this to happen. Never, not once, did I think purgatory offered such indulgence, sin. She climbed over me with her godly weight, and mumbled into my chest "You're mine now. Don't ever think I'm letting go." At the end of her sentence, her voice cracked. I noticed that it now possessed a sinister quality. I glanced into her eyes, and they weren't blue. They were gold. In the iridescent shine of the river. But they glowed with power. My mind slowly put the pieces together. I stumbled out of his grasp, cursing.

I almost screamed. "Kronos? What in Hades is this?" I was soon hysterical. The girl seemed to flicker, until she was a fairly young man with golden eyes, aura of power, and what would be considered a perfect body. He let out a laugh, causing me to clean out my ears. That hurt. He shrugged. He spoke "Who else? I had learned a new trick, so I decided to put it to use. Awesome, huh? I know you enjoyed it. I did. If you're wondering why, little demigod, I did it because I've imagined doing that. I didn't know I could do female, so you understand…"

I choked on his words. I asked "Seriously? Does that mean-oh gods, the images. I really don't want to know how this all works. I feel like this is a bit wrong. There is seriously no other word to describe it. You've put torture to the max, here. This is going to burden me for the rest of my life." He frowned, but I probably should have kept my comments and opinions to myself. Because he was now sitting over me, snarling. "It's my turn now, Jackson. Try to enjoy it. And don't worry about crying, I understand."


	4. Life On Re-Start? Only In the Pit

**Disclaimer; in no way do I own ****_Percy Jackson and the Olympians_**** or ****_Heroes of Olympus _****in any way. I don't even legally own this story, I think. But Rick Riordan owns the previously mentioned series. I would love to, but I don't.**

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**A/N: I hope you all like this chapter. If not, well, I respect your opinion but I am not one to ****_really _****care. However, constructive criticism and flaming is appreciated. See what I did there? No, but seriously, offer your actual opinion not some crap, trying to take my feelings into consideration. I know, I know, there are problems, and feel free to point any out. If you think I have too many original characters, or you dislike the way I have portrayed Percy or any other character, or you think this is a harem fic, well, I think you should write it down, except for the last one, then I won't be very pleased at all. Otherwise, you might hate me for this chapter. I've gotten more daring, as you should see.**

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Chapter 4: Life On Re-Start? Only In the Pit

What did I actually do to deserve this fate? Nothing, that's what. I either pissed off the Moirai so badly I had to deserve this, or its all going to turn out all right in the end, and being thrown in here only comes as a necessity in order for my fate to roll out onto its proper course. Neither really appeals to me, but if must I choose, my choice will remain the latter. Lest the outcome proves to be something unpleasant, as anything can happen in my world.

Thoughts roamed in my head in this state of mind, free to wander into the depths to which I have never thought, nor do I consciously attempt to. This can only happen in my current state, to which I am sleeping. Here, my thoughts cannot be restricted under any circumstance. Here, my mind's eye can somehow leave this abyss from time to time, offering me a sneak-peak of the realms above. This isn't the place of memories or fantasies, but premonitions of the past, present, and future. Only images of the unseen, whether it be mortal history or godly affairs.

It isn't limited to this, however. I see beings unknown to me, talking to me, warning me of possible impending danger. Or they merely instruct me on something I have never heard of, yet it remains familiar. During this time, I also experience the emotions of a mortal, becoming them for a time and having motor control over their limbs and speech. I am aware of more prophecies and quests, only sometimes coming into the point of view of a hero destined to complete a task set before them. I have even experienced the reactions of certain half-bloods at the notice of my disappearance.

That does not mean that everything remains in perfect clarity, howbeit, as my sight remains blurred in a small portion of the scenes to unfold in front of my eyes. And it really isn't exactly the greatest at times. It's not like I am not in appreciation of it, but I had sight into the minds of certain demigods, some being my supporters, others coming to regret their choice and vowing to make amends. I feel their rather intense feelings, and receive insight into some rather unpleasant situations. I also feel romantic feelings from once considered possible partners. Even if I wouldn't have guessed Cla-perhaps that shouldn't be discussed further.

As of now, I am watching the goddess Athena sit within her palace cross-legged, eyes closed, remaining relatively calm with her appearance. That's merely a shell of her true self. Oh how I loathe her, even if the aura that emanates off her is one of guilt. I would think she be the last to feel guilt, but then again I would not expect her to stoop so low. I should not be the one trapped down in Tartarus, it should be this manipulative word-not-suited-for-twelve-year-old.

I could feel her searching out, clearly expecting someone to come before her presence. Unfortunately, she's correct. She had been correct when she had came to surmise this very moment in time. Contrary to the others, it is almost certain that she can sense me. I could feel my hate brewing. I may have been rather loud had I actually been there. My lips contorted into a snarl. "Well well well. What is it that we have here? A brat of a goddess, whose intelligence surpasses the rest of her pantheon. And that isn't saying much, might I add." I had managed to growl, gritting my teeth with aggravation.

I have no love for this snarky little goddess, as I would gladly enjoy the surface more than where I'm currently stuck. I could feel the air grow cold around my ghastly figure, atmosphere darkening considerably. My eyes had to roll. A shiver traveled up my spine, as I was both anticipating and frowning upon what was to happen next. Even if I am grinning, accepting any possible challenges she so wished to begin. Her eyes snapped open, not really startling me. I have faced worse. There was a frown upon her face as she scanned over my figure.

I couldn't help but murmur under the noise of my breath, "Someone's eyes are wandering I see." I most certainly hope she hadn't heard that. In simultaneous reaction, she spoke. "You have finally come before me, I see. It's been a time and a half, young Perseus. It is most… interesting that you have finally appeared." She had said this as she stands up and walks towards me, an undeciphered emotion within her gaze. Just to tempt me, her hips swayed.

A bitter smile blessed my face as I thought of ways to sear her face off, making her the ugly goddess. I responded. "Oh, I do agree upon that. But enough with the petty greetings and small talk, Athena. My patience and all tolerance has been cut short." The glare I am offering is powerful, as I could see it burn through rays of light, going directly into her immortal soul. The hate I feel is unmistakable.

A smile slowly traced itself onto her lips. "I see you have changed a certain lot. You disrespect me and even possess the audacity to openly show your distaste. I am here to merely offer an explanation to your question. Why? It must be the one question raging on your mind. Why would Athena, the great goddess Athena, send me to Tartarus when I did nothing, other than being Sea Spawn?"

It was an amusing sight to see. I barked out a laugh. "Sea Spawn you say? Not anymore I'm not. You were there when he did what he did. In fact, I'm surprised it hasn't somehow leaked to the naiads at Camp Half-Blood, therefore reaching the ears of the demigods. In fact, I now hate that god for his choice. I honestly couldn't care less as to why you did anything, but you are right. I am innocent in all of this. And I still am paying the price."

Athena waved her hand, dismissing my thoughts. She continued on. "Like I had been saying, I am about to explain as to why. Now now, before you dismiss my reasoning, you must consider it. As you may have realised, your father and his children are considered the most attractive in the land, including you. They could do so much better than any mere demigod, let alone a camper. I must admit, you are one of the handsome ones, and you had to split up with my daughter eventually,"

I froze, staring. This cannot be. Anything but this. I could feel her examining my body, causing me to curse inwardly. "Oh, you understand now. This only played further into my hands when that boy showed up. In truth, I never actually liked your relationship with my daughter. She's beautiful, for a mortal. It wasn't hard to get the boy interested in her. It took a few contacts of mine and voila! Out of camp you go. You must understand, I never actually intended for you to be cast into Tartarus. The rest you can figure out."

My mind was pulling the image into one, piece by piece, ever-so-slowly. I questioned in my most unsure tone. "You're saying that you did all of this," I made a gesture with my hands, "all this, just so I could actually go to Olympus and plead for a purpose for my life, rather dramatically, but it was by a bad stroke of luck that I was thrown into Tartarus?"

Athena nodded in confirmation, a grin forming.

My voice was rising, into hysterics. "You did all this and I ended up down there just because about half the female population on Olympus, and nearly every girl I tend to meet, lusts after my body? My attractiveness? And you happen to contribute?"

She just nodded. I screamed "You did all this just SO YOU COULD MAKE ME A GOD, IMMORTAL AT THE VERY LEAST, JUST SO YOU AMONG OTHERS COULD HAVE A SHOT AT FUCKING ME? ARE YOU FUCKING MY HEAD? YOU ARE THE REASON I LEFT, MAKING IT YOUR FAULT FOR BREAKING YOUR DAUGHTER'S HEART. You are despicable. I knew the Olympians were horrible, but I never knew you could do this. Do you know how many times I have been abused, whether it be Kempe, or even Polybotes? You truly are a goddess. You don't care about mortals or the consequences of your actions. I've been abused so many times, I've lost count a long time ago. Curse you, goddess. Curse your eternal life. When we meet again, pray to the highest deity that I don't show you the tortures I have been forced to endure, and hope that my frustration and anger no longer remains."

Before she could lunge and seize my dream form, she had disappeared as fast as she came. As well as her bed chamber. And her rather large bed. One that she was probably going to try and rape me on. I may have let my anger get the best of me then, but I had a fair point in doing so. I don't know for sure if her heart had been broken, but I would assume so. Because I certainly would be weeping my heart out. Why can't I sound convincing? Sure, I love her and all but female Kronos is something I could come to like. That's probably the only thing to like about him.

Must you understand, I have come to realise that immortals are a tad bit possessive when it comes to mortals, as shown by Kronos and Hyperion. An interesting fight, as neither came to win. A stalemate of awesome power. I was stuck in the middle. Both figuratively and literally. They were fighting over me, and I was chained to the ground, face down. Don't ask how I got in that position. It's only another reason for me to dislike Kronos. Must I say, when Hyperion walked in, the fight to ensue was beyond a god's divine form. That's saying something.

For just a moment, the world around me was void of anything. Lifeless. Which is to be expected in the realm of sleep, but there was a rising fear in the depths of my mind of me waking up, back into the hands of the Allied Alliance of Tartarus Prison. Kronos came up with it. Otherwise known as A.A.T.P. by the others, who hate to use the whole name. I will never discover as to why Kronos gave it a name. I assure you, I never plan to do so.

But then there was a sudden flash of light, and on impulse I covered my eyes. Even being stuck in Tartarus doesn't help me with Titanic divine forms, or true forms of any greater deities above Zeus. I could probably handle Zeus and Hera. And about half of Olympus. Not fight them, but see them within their divine forms. This one was bright, revealing that they were a strong immortal, with equivalent power to an Olympian. The light settled, and my eyes readjusted to the light. My arm was pulled away, leaving me to stare at this winged being in front of me. She was staring right back at me.

My jaw parted from its closed position, allowing a gasp to escape my throat. This is definitely a she. I found myself blushing a deep shade of red, feeling self-conscious as I am completely naked. Had she noticed, she paid no heed. Her gaze was caught in my eyes, as was mine. Feelings of bliss and tranquility played with my mind as I look deep within her soul, feeling drawn towards her. The most odd thing is that she remains familiar, like I have once seen her before, somewhere. Oh how I wish for this to last.

But all good things must come to an end. That is what I have learned from many of my so called 'adventures'. I groan as my sight is soon obscured by one memory. One memory both created and lost within the pit. My mind can now finally grasp it, and only now do I see why this girl remains so familiar. Her image remains in my mind. Her words echo through my mind. "One day, my mate, you will help us escape this pit and let us roam free upon the surface, where we belong. I will no longer be corrupted, nor pure."

My vision cleared to reveal the winged girl, a girl that is smiling down upon me from her higher position above the ground, wings flapping up and down. I remained staring at her heavenly figure, taking in her appearance. Must a describe her again? I will. She takes the appearance of a fairly tall girl, mid to late teens, nearly as tall as me. Her dark hair remains untamed, flowing below her neck, below her chest. She wears armour made out of a substance that is either Obsidian, Stygian Iron or another metal, hugging her womanly curves.

Her helm is clipped to her waist, along with the scabbard of a long sword of an unknown design. But the hum emanating from the scabbard reveals its power and from this distance, I can tell the design remains unique. Her wings extend from her back, above her shoulder blades, extending past twenty-five feet at full wing span. They are feathered, and grey. I don't think the shade itself could be classified or understood by any one mortal. Her face has defined features, showing her pointy chin and cheek-bones. Her nose was pointy, still not large.

Her skin remains tanned, and perfectly toned. As to how, I don't know. There were no signs of lack of sleep, like shadows under her eyes. Her eyes were probably one of her best features. They too couldn't possibly be described with words alone, sight would make you understand. They are a swirl of black and white, and any other colour you could imagine. But they weren't present, only showing different shades of black and white. It's most peculiar. But a few strands of hair was covering one eye, and she blew the strands away. Her mouth happened to be perfect. Teeth perfectly aligned like only an immortal could possibly have. Perfectly white.

I blink, exiting the contest that I call staring. I managed to ask "Who are you, beautiful angel? Must I ask of your identity?" My words seemed to echo, even in my own mind. She frowns, and I fail to notice an important detail. I step, and I am surprised to find that the ground below me is solid. Step by step, I remain cautious as I have never experienced this realm, and I do not wish to fall. Until now, I fail to notice the grandeur of her wings, or the full span to which she can extend them. I can soon feel her power when I am near, and now do I see that within the confines of Tartarus she remains weak.

I am perhaps a metre away from her form, and we continue to look at each other. I am unaware as to why. In a very instant, I'm sprawled on the ground, a searing pain burning against my cheek. I outwardly swore, using my worst vocabulary, cradling my cheek as the pain fails to fade away. I glance up, turning to stare at the girl who had utter betrayal shining through her eyes, glaring at me. What was I saying about immortals? Oh yeah, it doesn't take much to hurt them, and they are really possessive over the little things.

The curse of a thousand languages echoes through my mind, or perhaps one very old one. My brain is deciphering it at light speed, which is rather fast but still it is rather tricky to figure out. She actually uses her mouth for the very last phrase she speaks, and this one is clear within my mind. I raise my eyebrow, "Must I ask, why are you to say that? I am unaware of most of these things. Someone must inform me eventually." I didn't understand why, but I managed to actually gain a genuine smile from the girl.

She mumbled "You mortals always did humour me, so obvious to so many things. At least you aren't as ignorant as those gods, or as world-destroying as Titans. With time, perhaps so. But certainly you especially." I question the good natured remark she has just made. I sigh, "Will you answer my questions, pretty angel? Or must I further wait for eternity?" I ask.

I had the feeling that my questions aren't to be answered, even if I so wish it. Instead, she tackles me like a football player, except that her arms are locked around my chest, and she is wearing proper armour. We descend down, passing through layers. Our surroundings changing with each barrier broken. There was an impact each time we fell through, slowing to a slow pace, obviously. Our world remains silent, apart from the air rushing past our sides. We land softly, as our pace had slowed drastically from the beginning of our fall. The surface beneath us is soft, almost like a bed.

I cough in surprise, finding that we are now upon a bed, the girl laying on my chest, snuggling closer. She began in a normal form. "I will take this form to further please you, my lover. What would you call it? A horny teenage girl who wishes to mate with you all the time. Never with the same mate." I coughed in shock, totally not expecting that. "I don't think you will wish to be that. That would make you a slut, and you would enjoy the feelings of pleasure derived from committing the act. It is considered morally unacceptable, and if you were to be an actual girl, the society would shun you."

Only the nod of understanding was my assurance that she understood. She turned to me with a seemingly normal face, different than her previous one. She spoke out, "You wish to know why I said what I had said. It is simple. You are my lover to have, mine to use. Even if your heart belongs to another. I am in perfect satisfaction of this, loving you in your dreams. Must you understand, I will always remain by your side, even if you remain unaware. I will catch you when you fall. I have chosen you over all others, against their wishes. Feel pleased with this choice. But remember, I will make love to you."

That's when, for the third or fourth time down here, I've technically cheated on Annabeth. Even if that was technically in my dream state. And I now believe that angels do exist. I have heard the moans of such a being, those moans sounding like melodic music played on Apollo's lyre, by Apollo. Contrary to popular belief, he can play the lyre quite well. I will really build up that guilt, until my conscience will materialise and bash light out of me. I know it won't be proud of being me. Maybe her face will haunt my dreams for a while, instead of dreams that cause me to moan in want, lust.

Today, I wake up, sitting up, with a gasp. I take deep breathes until my breathing settles. I think back carefully, and find that the words spoken in my dreams are removed. The events remain in my head, yes, but any other information has been wiped clean from my mind. Words are about to escape my mouth, harsh ones to make Ares whimper, but I refrain from doing so. I am trying to learn to control my tongue. Kronos had my mouth washed out with Greek Fire, and it hurt. I won't understand why he used Greek Fire, because he may have blown my brain to pieces.

Whether that was the purpose or not, I will never be sure. I sigh, letting the cool wind breeze across my bare body. I'm almost sure that I was wearing a shirt last night, when I had fallen asleep. In fact, I am not wearing a single piece of clothes, in all my dignity. I laugh aloud, finding ways to curse in a generalised way, to whomever it concerns, as they also left marks along my body. My mouth is foul, I cannot as much as doubt that. I guess it comes with the freedom, and naturally rebellious personality. I am almost sure my mouth surpasses most living on the land, or in the sky.

I feel the ground besides my bed for the shirt and bottoms, managing to find them nearly out of my reach. It would have been an awkward sight for me, had I been naked and roaming free. There goes respect, here comes admiration. I am thankful that Kronos was nice enough to give me a cell to myself, not stuck with some inmate who has turned same gender sexual orientation. Or had he stooped so low, an insane monster who is worthy of an asylum or a fan-girl. Who would have thought it? Fan-girls in a prison. It's not the strangest thing I have seen in here.

Once I am clothed, I turn to sit on the seat at the desk, staring at the door in front of me. They'll be here any minute. I will hope for either two of three types of guards. Let me explain. There are three types of guards, in descending order: Royal Guard, Female Patrol and the normal guard. I got to meet the female guard after getting umm, loved by Kronos. They are exclusively female, and to me the most dangerous. They are all forced to complete special training and are expected to keep in shape, making them very fit. And hot. Hey, my eyes do wander. It doesn't help that they happen to be former prisoners, and are very aware of me. They want me too.

Hey, it's neither mine nor the author's fault that the story is unraveling this way. Must I point out that no characters have truly tried searching deeper into my feelings, and most of them have showed their lust and/or infatuation. This will be further discussed later. Like I was saying, the Female Patrol are all attention-seeking ditches to some extent. The actual word I use in that sentence rhymes with ditch. Some also happen to be recruited fan-girls. I still despise the sight of girls clinging onto blow-up dolls of me. No, I don't know how or where they got them from. Eccentric would probably describe them best.

There was a quiet knock on the door, startling me out of my thoughts. My trance was broken in an instant. I cleared my throat, saying "Come in, I'm awake." I try to make my tone as formal and proper as possible, because they expect proper manners and formality in here. I blame Prometheus. However, no guard is to knock at a prisoner's door, as prisoners are to be given no respect in this place. No exceptions. Prometheus forced me to memorise the guidelines of the prison. It took chains, gas, and a few other not-so-pretty torture devices. I'm not one to give vivid descriptions.

The door jeered open soundlessly, revealing three young women in bright pink armour, affecting my eyesight permanently. One was clearly the leader, as she stands at the front of the three, and the other two flank her. She also wears an expensive green cloak, clashing with the hot pink coloured armour. Did the designer not have a fashion sense? My eyes, my beautiful eyes. I managed to actually focus on their faces, not being drawn in by the pretty colours, then being blinded. It didn't help that my emotions control me, and I tend to remain loose these days.

All I can say is that my eyes are beginning to wander all too often, and they are rather good looking, at least to me. I wouldn't say that they were really old, maybe all in the age bracket of 20 to 23 years of age. Considering I take the appearance of a 19 year old boy and I still appeal to a variety of people, I could probably have them on the ground, begging me for pleasure. Especially with their wandering eyes. And they're licking their lips as well. Gods, I am such a sinner for the thoughts I do have. One day, I am going to be a rabid dog.

The girl who is presumably leader sighs, "Get up, hot boy. You're making me wet at your mere sight." I coughed, because she did not just say that. I stood up warily, afraid of what she plans to do. She steps forward, gripping my wrist and pulling me forward. I curse and struggle, unafraid of her or her friends, but afraid of the consequences of her next actions, if I am to guess correctly. The sadistic grin never left her face as her friends began kissing places on my body.

I swear more audibly this time, delivering a blunt punch to an offender's nose with my left palm. I delivered a judo flip to another. I spat on the ground, wiping my nose. I turned to stare at the now terrified girl and her moaning friends, laying on the ground. I sighed, "Please just do your job and deliver me to where ever it may be, and please think again when you try to randomly attack someone. I won't tell anyone if you don't say a word of this to anyone. Just a few tips: there's this cool invention, its called rope; learn to restrain someone properly if you plan on doing that again; and train so if you actually try to restrain a physically stronger being, you'll have alternate ways of doing so."

The other girls stood up, brushing dust off their armour. I don't think she listened as the two girls decided to flank me, and she stood in front of me, so in order to walk forward I would be up against her back. I was grateful that she stood a few inches above me, and is wearing armour with a cloak. She spoke, facing the opposite direction, "Little hero, understand that we will have our fun with you. Perhaps, as of yet, you are unwilling, but you will be ours to share. You are too fine a specimen to pass on, stud muffin. I understand from what I have been told that you 'love' a girl on the surface, your first love. I'm sorry to say that you won't be going anywhere for a while, boy."

From then on, we walk in silence. Of course, on occasion one of the girls would forcefully grind up against me, and her moans reverberated off the walls. I hate to admit it, but I am beginning to enjoy their hot bodies against my skin. But then again, the girl in front of me would basically force herself against me, and I further hate to admit that I had been turned on. I had learned through their whispers, that her name is Alexandra. Formally mortal, fell into a state of depression after her, umm, boyfriend died up on the surface. Someone had managed to get her stuck down here.

I find that the route we are taking is abandoned, giving them the opportunity to feel me up. There were no cells, only rooms that remain dusty on the outside and doors closed. They weren't very tender with their touches, often making me yelp. We come walking to what I guess is the end of the path, a metal door latched into place with an amount of little locks, combinations and every type of heavy-duty lock to possibly exist. The girl in front of me decoded or unlocked all of the locks, and the girls pushed me forward, out into the open. My balance was never lost, so my eyes scanned the area while my mouth began to gape.

I began staring at what lies ahead of me, and my mind cannot come to convey a word to my conscious. I am staring at what I think is some kind of fortress. Think typical medieval castle, one made out of stone, grey, maybe even similar to the Bastille. If you can picture that, picture this: you are standing on ground above ground level, staring into the grounds below. Giant fences line behind the fortress, and beyond those fences is hell. Hellfire sprays along the ground like a moat, and further beyond those is darkness. Never ending and vast. You can see the walls encasing this place, bronze, releasing an ethereal glow.

Must I admit, this is an impressive sight indeed. We began walking again, this time I remain alone. Finally, they allow me some respectable personal space. We still walk, and it puzzles me as to how weather can happen within an enclosed box, as the wind bites against my skin. Within minutes, we are within the halls, walking as silently as ever. I note that we pass large doorways, 12 in total. Two twelve feet doors make up these doorways, and all have different letters and characters on each. The translations concern me. I've never been here before, haven't even heard of it. Don't forget that the final two doors concern me the most, as they are most grand and parallel with each other.

We reach what seems to be the final destination, two larger doors, in an arch. I sigh, because I hear voices beyond the doors. These voices are all too familiar. And they are shouting, making their voices rather loud. My lips are pursed with consideration. My lips twitch into a frown, in disdain. My facial expression has to surely remain comical. I hear the girl in my ear, "If you haven't guessed it, that's where the twelve Titans gather to converse in Tartarus. I can't step inside without being forced out. But they requested your presence, so, yeah. I will be waiting." All in all, it was more like I could feel her speaking, as her breath against my ear made me shiver.

They pressed a button next to the door, and walked away quietly. If I am to guess, I would think they fear the older Titans. They've got a right to be afraid. There was a loud shout, "Come." Was all one of the beings inside had said. I knew it was for me, but I still had to roll my eyes. I had to cover my ears as well. I took a cautious step forward, hesitant, but the doors opened like magic. Automatically, that being said. I walk in at a slow pace, taking in all of the room, all of its occupants. I could recognise a few by name, and a few by sight. There are a few who I have no clue on who they are.

It was assembled similar to the Olympian council, only that these beings despise previously mentioned beings and are in larger forms. They are in an Ω shape, males left, females right. They sit on grand thrones, 24 feet at least, all the thrones varying from being to being. The only being glaring at me happens to be Oceanus - once again, I am unaware if he was sent here after being defeated by Poseidon, he willingly came, or something else entirely - and the rest remain either apathetic or grinning from ear to ear. I waved to Bob as I passed him, causing him to scowl, but politely wave back.

I stood in the middle of the Omega, staring at each of these powerful beings in the eyes, daring them to face me. It's this cool ability I have been practicing. I stare and wait until Kronos speaks up. "Perseus, I welcome you to our humble adobe. But let us pass formalities and get straight to the point. You are here because I feel that you need to be rewarded for cooperating with us for such a long period of time. I know with your father's rebellious streak, you tend to remain a bad boy and somewhat a stud muffin. For this reward, I offer you something you have declined in the past."

I frown, hoping against hope that his idea of a reward for me cannot be done. I snort. "I can't say I am honoured to be here, Crooked One. And I can't exactly say that I've had a choice in 'co-operation'. But you're right, I've actually managed to tolerate this torture you offer." I replied.

Kronos still grinned, retorting "Perhaps so, Seaweed Brain. But I am sure you want the torture to stop, Kelp Head. You could be doing better things, like helping us rule this prison. I know you have no love for the gods, so why not join us? Besides, there are incentives if you so choose it. I know why you originally declined, demigod. There's nothing holding you back now, and if you so accept this, you will hold greater power than what you could possibly imagine."

The others were wide eyed, knowing that those few topics are rather sensitive to me. They were about to warn him but a growl escaped my throat - one that was completely involuntary, mind you - and my ferrel side took control. In a few short fast strides, I brought his giant figure down onto the ground, holding the blade of his scythe against his immortal throat. I don't know how I did it, because my sight was red as a finally snapped. I spat on the ground next to him, saying "Careful there, Kronos. My tolerance only goes so far, and my patience was broken when you decided to taunt me. I'd hate to see your uprising delayed. And don't get me wrong, I do love Annabeth, but who I love is up for me to choose."

I walked away, dumping the scythe on the ground next to his face. In a literal flash, he returned to his seat in a thinking position with a smirk. He condescendingly said "It's decided then. It only shows with your untrained skill that you are finally worthy of immortality."

There were slight nods of agreement, but I could see slight them within their minds. Deciding the fine print, I see. I could only bounce on the toes of my feet, because there's always a catch. And even if I didn't want it, they would force it upon me. They finally finish, and so Kronos begins. "But, we feel that you should prove it. Because we'll be giving you more power than any council of immortals has done previously. Yes, this means training and 'quests' as you so call them. And yes, you will be able to die on these quests. But my glorious sister wishes to offer you a rather special offer. Oh, Themis."

There is a tap on my shoulder. I spin around to face a young woman, smiling pleasantly at me. In her eyes, I see justice. I incline my head in respect, because this Titaness is regarded highly within the pantheon of Greek Gods, and no being dare face her in fear of facing Dike. She only smiled wider, a genuine smile at that. She speaks out in a voice that shows authority and confidence. "Perseus Jackson, I will only offer you this once. I am the very representation of divine law, order and custom. Among others. Will you accept the offer of the champion of deities of justice, gaining the respect and blessings of further deities?"

Her eyes shine with power, and my mouth moved by itself. "Lady Themis, I am to become the champion of such deities, accepting and bearing the blessings of other gods who remain unnamed. I am your will. You will not come to regret this."

Themis still smiles as she spoke with a sense of finality. "Indeed I won't, but nor will you. You will serve us well. Just remember that justice will always prevail. It may take years, or millennia, but you will earn what you seek. Remember, you are now fit to offer punishment, but it must remain just. I can only hope that I will not come to regret this."

She kissed my head tenderly, making sure to savour it, before stepping back and bowing. I am enveloped by a soft light, and slowly other colours intertwined into the light surrounding me, and it soon grows intense. With one brief flash, burning my eyes, knowledge burns through my mind, power taking hold of my body. I scream. My muscles burn, but I feel different. I feel powerful. My confidence is greater.

"Perseus, let your training commence!"


	5. Lightsabers?

**Disclaimer; I do not own the Percy Jackson Universe in anyway, or any of its characters, settings, situations, plot lines, books, stories, etc. because Rick Riordan and the publishers do. But, I am sure all of us would want to own the rights, but unfortunately we nor I am Rick Riordan.**

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**A/N: What can I say? I now hate - scratch that, despise nearly all of you. Special thanks to all of you who did review. I'm disappointed with the rest of you. And by the way, I do try to keep my readers interested with special twists and turns. But I work off my own material. And my brain can only come up with so many ideas. That's why I appreciate your thoughts. This chapter is basically just Percy beginning his training, within the forges. Also, the scientific processes within this chapter are purely of my own make, but if you are a science-y person, feel free to offer the correct procedure. But I'll have you know, quark-gluon soup actually exists.**

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**Dedication: I hereby offer a shout out and dedicate this chapter to divine . reyes .372 , as you are the only one who actually attempted to guess, at all.**

**Read on, people.**

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Chapter 5: Lightsabers are too good to pass up

I grit my teeth, more than angry about the trials I am being forced into. Kronos knows that I don't want to be an immortal, much less a god. He is fully aware of this, yet he still gives me no choice, forcing me into this against my will. He's doing it because he himself just wants me for my body, and this isn't completely the female him. I am merely his toy, his plaything. He's only doing this so I can't escape him. I must sound repetitive, but it comes at the unfortunate price of being true. I can't say that I am pleased.

But, the side that has only recently revealed itself, argues that I will have unimaginable power. It will be far beyond any Olympian, if their training is done correctly. In fact, my power of the three major domains will be so great, I will be able to have some influence from down here. This power might also assist me in escaping this place, which will be some kind of blessing of fate. My mind argues this, anyway. I am also inclined to think that if my power will be that great, I could be classed as a Titan or Primordial God. That's if my domains are unique and original, of course.

I have discovered a few abilities as the champion of deities serving and representing divine will, and I have come to discover there is a long list of immortals. They have all participated, whether it be consciously or not. I can do a few strange things, and predict events. Like predicting someone's doom. Oh, and I also have the ability of sight. Yeah, Themis had previously been the Oracle of Delphi, leading her to the establishment of goddess of divine law. I can't say I am pleased about that either, as I spontaneously fall unconscious and have visions.

Immediately after the ceremony, Kronos had me assessed. My health was assessed in a series of tests, designed to discover my limits. My body was also looked over by Tartarus Prison's resident physician. Who knew they had one? I didn't. But that wasn't the worst part, by far. Even if I swear that the doctor is a pedophile, who tried to molest me, multiple times. Almost like Kronos. Almost. Not quite.

Then there was the power and battle assessment.

Fun, I tell you.

I had to battle Hyperion in a fully fledged fight of abilities, hesitantly so, and all I had to say was wow. I was obliterated. I hint to how powerful Hyperion really is: the Battle of Manhattan showed you not a fraction of his real power. I'm afraid that my face was seared off. In fact, I am afraid that the skin of my body was charred by the heat he had been emitting. I didn't last a minute against him, considering I didn't have water to use against him. I'm a bit down about that, I admit. I thought I would do better, just a tiny bit.

And the other 'battle' assessment? That wasn't battle, that was more fighting skills. I lasted against a never ending wave of monsters for some time before my limbs began to fail me. I could handle greater fatigue than previously as a demigod, after being tortured for so long. But considering they could not die in Tartarus, and I probably could, I didn't do awful but I didn't do great either.

All Kronos would do was stare at me intently and frown, brain ticking over in thought. He didn't notice the sour looks I would offer him. I am slightly thankful, as he held something in his hand that would've once again electrocuted me. A remote. I am saying that he had the collar, my great friend, installed around my neck once again. This was to make sure that I would comply with his orders. Or if I wasn't trying hard enough. I still found a way to curse him, as he now operates it manually. That has worked in my favour, for now. I do not believe it will last. My luck had ran out long ago, when I had first entered this place. I know luck doesn't run with me, but occasionally it would sprout up in spurts of luck.

What am I doing right now?

I am waiting impatiently for him to actually explain what my schedule will be. Hopefully, he won't be in all of them. I know that he'll be in at least one, because that is obvious. His eyes remain unfocused and cloudy, before turning to stare at me with that look. Not a look I like. It's the stare that reveals his emotions, the more extreme ones. The grin I have come to recognise easily appeared on his face.

I find myself avoiding his gaze, knowing that he's trying to figure my complex. He can't figure out the complicated net of emotions, woven into my being. He wants to, but I won't allow him. Without warning, he speaks. "I have your training schedule decided. Do you wish for me to tell you of your lessons?"

I sigh, knowing he's going to tell me anyway. He doesn't care, and I know it. I nod in confirmation. He begins, "Perseus, you will be training in all forms of combat, in all weapons types. All styles. You will master this. That training will only begin after your armoury is prepared and you are in use of all weapons. With general warfare and schooling, you will be tutored by my brother Coeus, the Titan of Intellect and others. Your powers will be enhanced, and you will have training with Oceanus - yes, he is willing - on your powers over water, and the remaining ones will be with either Hyperion or I. Themis will also direct you with your blessings in particular. There will be others who wish to have some participation, including Iapetus. Or Bob, as he likes to be called."

My brows furrow in thought, because that doesn't seem too hard. However, I didn't recognise that he wasn't actually finished. "… but we must also touch on a few other things. Your fitness has to improve, along with your body, because let's face it, you have left it in horrible condition and you aren't very fit at all. You'll have fitness and conditioning with friends, and we must also have you gain a few blessings exclusive to the underworld. Iapetus will escort you outside Tartarus and instruct you when the time comes. After your training is complete, you will also complete quests on the surface. You will wear the collar when you take on these quests, and you will be given companions to accompany you. You will be informed with time. There are other things we will discuss later. But first of all, you get to learn how to properly forge with Briares and my brothers, the elder race of Cyclopes. Foolish Briares, honestly thinking that he could actually be purposeful means other than forging. At least he has complied this time."

I might have screamed at his face, because he fails to realise what kind of toll it is going to take on both my mind and body. It may look like exceptionally little to any reader, but to me, it is one metaphorical mountain to climb. It may seem positive on the shell known as my body, but it will have its negative impact on my mind. At the end of my training, my mind will be either very sharp, or it will be the complete opposite. Once again, I am not one to willingly take risk.

We just stand in awkward silence, the awkwardness being all me. Trying to remain polite and figuratively killing the silence, I asked "Might I ask, what is next?" He began to stare at my intensely once again, and it has a knack of getting on my nerves. He spoke "I'll be sending you off to beginning the first phase of your training, the first trial, if you must call it that. Have fun and goodbye, Perseus. Oh guard!"

The guard appeared instantly, probably expecting the call. Thankfully, it happens to be a guard I don't recognise, and male. Kronos disappears, unsurprisingly so, as the guard hoists me forward with force, clearly disliking or knowing me. I stumbled, swearing, hoping not to fall face-first into the ground. The collar hissed, shocking me. I had nearly forgotten about that. I stumbled from both the applied force of the shove and surprise shocker from the collar.

He grunted as I stood up, triumphantly so, and he poked me forward with what felt like a sharp stick. No, not a spear, dagger or sword, but a stick. Wow, that's so technologically advanced. I regretted saying that when the stick enlarged and increased sharpness. Strange. I am forced to stride forward faster, in fear of being prod by the stick. To any person we walk past, it was a humorous sight. Not as funny as Kronos' pants on fire, mind you, but still a sight. Hopefully the stick is only a stick, otherwise that might be just a tiny little bit awkward.

Are they laughing at my face? Seriously? Oh come on! What did I do? No kidding, because they are laughing and pointing at something behind my back, what I can only assume is the guard. Thankfully, we were beginning to reach more quiet cells, where the occupants would watch my every move. Me reached a special wing, sealed off from the rest by a golden metallic door, enforced with other metals. Ones I recognise, others I don't. The way the metals have blended could only be made by an expert forge. And there would be multiple smiths involved.

The doors opened automatically, separating, with glide that comes with perfection. Soundless, too. The stick pushes nice and hard against my back, reminding me that there is a place outside of my mind. They call it reality. We walk, and I could feel the guard behind me silently groan in complaint. Because the heat instantly assaulted my skin, making me begin to feel sweaty. I would think the consequences same for the guard. I could only assume that.

In front of us were four monstrous beings, towering over our figures and talking animatedly between each other. The first one to notice us had to be Briares. He glared at me, thinking I was some enemy and not remembering the Titan War. He spoke well, "Want do you want? If its concerning the Titans, leave us now."

The guard probably wet himself. He gathered enough courage to talk, "Lord Kronos has ordered the boy be taken here, to be trained under you in forging and smithing, also suggesting you supervise him until he has made suitable armour and weapons."

I'm surprised that he actually managed to speak at all. I've gotta give it to him, what he said took some courage. They turned to glare at the guard, but he disappeared and the door shut behind him. They were glowering and I weakly spoke, giving a wave, "Hi, you may not know me but I'm Perseus Jackson, previous Olympian hero and cast into here by the council." They froze, and that was the reaction I was hoping for.

Briares spoke in his deep voice, "Ah, I see. The Sea child. I know what the Crooked One wants from you now. I will honour what I see as your request, Perseus Jackson. I hope the results don't disappoint us. Now please, walk with us."

They seemed to shrink, falling to my size. I raised my eyebrow in response. The ushered me forward, towards a simple door, under lock and key. Don't forget prints, plus there was a keypad, with a number for a specific room. They keyed in 764, giving me a small key so I can actually access this contraption. Once the door slid open, it revealed another door with the label 'Perseus J', clearly mine. I raised an eyebrow, but they shrugged mysteriously. I pressed the key in the lock, turning it and yanking the door open.

I blink, staring at what I assume is my new room. For now. I had to whistle appreciatively, almost enthusiastic as I jump onto an actual bed, for me. A contented sigh escaped my lips as I heard distant chuckling, but I don't care. I observed the room, coming to notice most of the features. And the plain, glossed wooden door. It was a homey, cosy someone may say. In this room was a metal fireplace, confusing me further. There was also this single bed, a two-seat reclining couch, a plasma screen television, and a fridge. As to how any of this got here, I have no idea. The walls were coloured a deep ocean blue, decorated with pictures of recognisable people, some whom I hate or dislike.

Briares spoke up once again, "Child, this will be your living quarters. I will clarify the following; this room has two modes: day and night. Day is like this, and night is without the extra light. That fridge will store unlimited energy bars, always carry surplus amounts of Ambrosia and Nectar. It also stores other foods. You will discover the limitations, surely. That television is special; it can access mortal channels and can show you up-to-date information on affairs of the gods and down here. The only of its kind. That is why you might find those three in here. Warning: searching for certain beings carry risks. Be wary."

Interesting enough. I know that I will be finding time to use this. He gave me a stern look, saying "Boy, consider your time in this room to be your free time. You can do whatever you wish. Your time with us will not be too hard, but you must follow our instructions."

I stood up as he gestured for me to walk to the door. I did just that and found a panel, with a long list of buttons with small writing next to them. One of them said from behind me. "The 17 levels all belong to you, for you to use in whichever way you please. We will not tour all of them, as that would take too much time. Just note this: the spare room is where you can do anything you like, as well. You can play mortal sports, or do any one thing. Now, press button number 8."

I did exactly that, that the word 'strength training' appeared. I frowned, gaining a vague idea of the purpose of the room. The door opened with a buzz, and we walked in. I blinked, nearly rolling my eyes. In front of me was basically a gym, but only focusing on strength training. I couldn't help but laugh, because this will be real fun. One of them said "This is strength training, before you attempt to properly forge at the skill level needed to work with special metals, you must be strong enough to do so. We advise that you focus on mainly this until we find it sufficient. Yes?"

I only sighed.

"I am to guess that it is time to begin."

"Perseus, well done. You are most certainly getting better by the lesson."

I just nodded, still not impressed that Kronos had me do this. "Yes. Thank you. May I be dismissed, sir?" I asked in my polite voice, remaining patient. He just nodded, and I raced off to my room, keying in the code on impulse, stepping inside.

I ignore the computer's acknowledgement of my presence, sitting in my recliner. The computer I created, by the way. I never knew the two topics had any links, but what do I know? Nothing, supposedly. I spoke aloud, through voice command. "Computer, please show me the Olympian council at this immediate moment in time."

The monitor beeped, turning on. It showed me a ballroom, lights dimmed. I could see tables, and silhouettes of the beings attending this masquerade ball. They wear special masks, concealing their eyes and upper face. But it was easy to assume which is female or male. I can already come to name a few by their mere sight. But one did catch my attention.

Clearly a woman, wearing a beautiful dark grey dress that seems to remain familiar in my mind. I will not describe the dress further. Her steps affect many men, as they come before her and offer their hands, but she declines all, getting nearer to a man in a simple tuxedo, with a green long sleeve shirt and tie. Attracting just as many females. They both have their sights set on each other, and something resembling jealousy boils inside of me. I continue watching, feeling that the next events are important.

They join hands and begin to waltz in time with the music. I could here their chatter with clarity, above all else. "What does a charming young woman want from same old humble me, my sweet beauty?" The male spoke with a smooth flow, a tone in his voice suggesting flattery and seduction.

I gagged at that part.

She replied just as quickly, "I want nothing from you except this dance, mister green tux. But from the sight I have seen of you, I can return the pleasure of saying that you too are indeed most attractive. Perhaps the most attractive man here. But others would argue to that, chiefly Apollo. Yes?" Her voice was regal and high, one befitting a queen who thinks of her superiority. However, I understand why.

They go back and forth, offering small conversation and flattering comments, often retorting. It made me choke on my drink, the cheesiness of the words taken in speech and the overuse of particular phrases. But this seems to be pre-rehearsed before this actual event. Or at least the boy's movements. I know this is some special event, considering its a masquerade ball, and Artemis is clearly attending. I remain attentive of details, and I begin to notice something that seems to burn at my heart. It's something typical. My mouth twitches into a frown, just as well.

Almost simultaneously, he pretends to drop something on the floor and bends down only to slyly pull something out of his back pocket. He bends down on one knee, pulling off his mask. Curses escape my mouth as I realise who he is. No shocks. The grin on his face portrays his emotions, and I feel ready to throw up. Or throw a knife. He asks "My lovely owl, I pose this one question: will you marry me?" They turn to stare at the couple as he opens the velvet box. I almost scream as I recognise the ring.

She gasps, removing her mask to only clasp her mouth with her hand in shock. She was staring at the ring, like the rest of them. I almost screech when I see her blonde hair, curling down her neck like a princess, only to the use of a stylist, except they were natural. Tears were streaming down my face.

She was soon grinning, her eyes lighting up joyously. She spoke softly, "Of course I will. Yes. Absolutely."

I could see Athena almost grinning in the background, almost smirking, face screaming her thoughts on this. I wanted to walk up to her and punch her in the face more than anything else, hoping for this torture to end.

The 'camera' panned out into darkness as the applause began, a voice echoing through the screen. "You have been warned, boy. The Moirai have ordered me to do this, to show you life above, on the surface. I am sorrowful, truly; but you must feel this pain in order to fulfil the roll you are to receive in this universe. You carry the blessings of many as champion of All forms of Justice and Divine Law and Will, Nephew, including mine. I have eyes within Tartarus, young god. I am aware of what Kronos plans of you. I welcome you into my domain, whether you believe me or not. I know he'll send you there, and I'll be waiting. Let fate guide you, allow the Moirai to favour you. Which they are. Lucky you, I say. Goodbye, I look forward to seeing you again. Or not."

In the centre of the blank screen appeared Hades' pits of eyes, that soon began to glow and change form until they were little Diamonds, shining brightly within the darkness. A sinister, almost insane laugh ensued. I could only roll my eyes as the laughter trailed off, screen going blank. Typical. At least there's The Lord of the Dead on my side. There's something. I still think he could actually help…

… This is my time to shut up now. I apologise for my previous comment, Lord Hades. As I was trailing off, I had realised that he had sent me a few gifts. Valuable ones too. But seriously, why did he give me this? A key? Really? Does he know how dangerous a key like this could be? At least he also gave me unaltered, pure raised-from-the-ground crystals. There are other ones that I have never seen, just as well. I have an idea for these.

With my mind temporarily off the video, I stand up and walk to the door, pressing the number for the room I call my study. The door whizzed open, and I take a step inside. I walk over to the computer I had created, the computer that the operating system originates from. This is the base, and also super fast. Internet reaction times unmatched by any one computer. My fingers pass on letters, as I prefer typing over voice command. I bring up a web page and I begin to browse, writing down notes. I know what I will create out of these crystals and key.

I'm creating a list of materials I wish to use, and planning to experiment, creating an alloy. My mind sees the reactions one will have on another, and the chain reaction that will begin. For me, it's 9 grade Science all over again. But not quite as sophisticated. I'll be honest, I really had it going in Science class. I enjoyed some of it. Lets hope Briares and company approve of it.

I find myself bouncing on the balls of my feet, in anticipation. I know that they know that I work with this well. I put the notes in my pocket, rushing out of my quarters, towards the suites of the others. Instead, I find Briares standing silently within his forge. I come to stand next to him, still miniature in comparison. His voice is unexpected, startling me slightly. "Promise me, boy, that when you do escape, when you finally leave this wretched place, you will leave all grudges behind you, but won't forget us."

His question was so small when you were to compare it to the favour he's giving me. I shrugged, "Sure. I promise." I sounded so careless, but he's aware of my inner battles. I ask "I know that you said armour and weapons were a bit later, but I have this wicked idea for a master blade, fit for a warrior. Could you help me collect my materials?" He gave a nod, causing me to smile. I handed the list to one of his many hands, and he pondered this with a frown on his face.

Later, he simply gave me a nod, moving around, taking out a table, gathering metals and certain substances I need to create this superb sword. After basically everything was collected, the others cluttered in, staring at the metals on the table curiously. I said "I am going to create a blade, one that has never before been attempted. By mortal or god alike. I have the schematics of the inner workings, basic layout, and the design or particular components within such a thing."

I chucked a whole heap of sheets of paper, folding them back to reveal my grand plan. I could feel them share a look, an interested look. "Demigod, when we said you are to create a set of armour and weapons, we mean that you will create multiple sets with many weapons. These will be based off your own designs, like this one. I am to guess that one will be centred around this sword of yours. What you wish to attempt may come to fail, but with magic anything can happen, I guess. And I understand that some materials are within your possession, yes?"

I nodded, dumping the bag of crystals and jewels. I then opened up that bag, spilling its content. They make sounds to further show their curiosity. But I know I had them at the schematics. I take the crystals I do wish to use, "I wish to mould these together, using this black one as base. I was wondering if you could do it for me." He began laughing, surprising me. He directed us towards what I assumed was where we are going to preform the procedure, and with a flick of a switch, the cover opened up to reveal a pit of lava, bubbling over. Hanging above it is what I think is a test tube, supposedly empty.

I raised an eyebrow, only for him to explain. "In that tube is something that goes far beyond mythology, boy. This concerns science. It is referred to as quark-gluon soup. This also happens to be 250,000 times more hotter than the core of the sun. but this is only a tiny amount. still dangerous. Combine this with lava flowing from the centre of the earth, you have an extremely warm substance. We also have another sample, which will be used later."

From then, he no longer talked. We watched on as the precious crystals descended into the lava, with the tube. It really did begin to sizzle, making us step back cautiously. We weren't going to take risks. We waited for a few minutes, quickly taking them out and finding fine results. Each of the crystals had latched onto the dark crystal, almost remaining solid. It was put to cool in water, and hissing could be head, vapours rising into the air. We left that to set, remaining silent as ever. If they had nothing to teach me, they would often remain silent.

The cluster was soon cooled down, and when it was taken out of the water, it was all shiny, and glowing. I don't know what it was, but he dipped the cluster of jewels into a liquid, before taking it out once again and passing it to me. The explanation was, "The cluster was poisonous, a chemical reaction of a kind. The little crystals are compounds, you see. They basically mixed, in a sense. Jewels aren't, in reality, something I have exceeding knowledge in. I had to add the agent in order for your mortal hands to handle the thing. But I assume you are aware of what to do next."

I just nod, taking hold of the chunk of precious jewels that have formed together. I carry it to another room, where I begin the process of removing all unnecessary extra pieces. It takes me hours, but I do use a few steps to have the assurance that it won't shatter. I don't try to make it complicated, just a basic diamond point cut, just a bit more narrow. Even if it wasn't as fancy as the new styles, it would suit its purpose perfectly well, still having an incredible shine.

I find them talking next to the table, seemingly arguing about something. I threw the jewel onto the table, "I have completed the gem. It is time to begin."

With that, we had begun.

It took little over a week, donating all of our spare time to this project. I could not have gotten this done without their assistance. It took some effort, as I had to either trial the use of a special alloy of all the metals I had in mind, or using them individually as layers. I ended up using the alloy of all of the mortal metals I had suggested, as well as managing to successfully attempt to create an alloy of the blessed metals.

Once the individual parts were made, which were few but they needed to be made precisely, with special properties. Like the battery cells. They had to be supercharged, and they had to have a rune of ever-lasting power. Once they were completed, the casing had to be made correctly, to fit everything together. Then they had to be bound together. Once this process is complete, I created the outer casing that has the hardest mineral - or you could say combination of minerals - that covers the hilt, further reinforced by Stygian Iron. The accessories are next, including grip and D-rings, so I can attach it to a belt if I am to have one. Also adding a switch.

It is completed. We stand around its finished product, switched off. I whistled to show my appreciation. "Awesome. Very good. You say there is one more step until I can receive the finished product. What is it?" My gaze is inquisitive. He speaks in response, "Perseus, all that has to happen now is for this blade to be dipped within the River Plegethon. Do not worry, that can happen immediately."

Once again, we exited the room and stepped through a variety of doors, constantly punching in numbers. I soon find us at the bank of the River of Fire, the River of Fire swaying and rippling little any normal river, the only displayed difference happens to be the colour. He handed me the thing, making sure I know what to do. Even without the look he had given me, it was all painstakingly obvious.

With the cylinder in hand, my left hand reached out to the river slowly with caution, hesitation being the greatest factor. My hand penetrated the surface of the river, mind screaming to run. I decided to just get it over with and allow my hand to reach below the surface. I nearly yelped as the pain came into immediate affect, almost jerking my hand away and releasing the cylinder. But I don't, refusing to relent. I remained there for what seems like hours, before something in my mind ticks over. I pull my hand away, my hand feeling numb from the contrasting cold of the metals to the blazing fire surrounding my grip.

I held it in my hands, lifting it up to eyesight to properly examine it. It had a new fire to it. The surface has a new lustre to its appearance, both absorbing and distorting light thanks to this cool thing I found. The tiny diamonds gleam in the darkness of hell, glowing and illuminating the path ahead. A grin is apparent on my face as I move to grip it purposely, the open end pointing away from my body. I press the button, igniting the blade in my hand.

It turns on with a audible hiss, thrumming quietly. It hums with power as I come to observe it at eye-level. The sword reaches just beyond four feet, remaining in the form of a two and a half inch thick blade. The tip is something resembling a traditional sword. Fire seems to waver off the black blade, igniting the blade into an unsettling bright and colourful way. Little arcs of electrostatic electricity seemed to occur spontaneously on the blade, briefly lighting it up. I flip the switch, and the sword is in the form of a Greek Xiphos. I flick the switch again, each time the blade changing. I grinned in content. This is an improvement from Riptide, definitely. I couldn't help to stop the sinister laugh escaping my mouth.

Malicious thoughts entered my mind as I thought of the possibilities, and the limits that I will come to have. No, this sword is open. If I'm going to become a god, this will be my symbol of power. Even if I copied the idea from "Star Wars" and I have to accredit them, including George Lucas.

I find myself absent-mindedly practicing my skills with this new sabre, practicing my down strokes. I speak, "I guess my training resumes as of now."

For the next period of time, I can never presume how long a daily cycle is down here, I train, learning the different trades associated with the forge. There being a sparse collection of occupations. I complete tasks, creating special objects to which I keep. I have now completed many sets of armour, rings, bracelets, necklaces, pendants, circlets, countless jewellery. I have created a heap of weapons, ranging from countless knives and daggers, elegant swords, maces, guns, crossbows, long bows, bows, quivers, the like. I can retract them into small charms or similar, thankfully,

I have also created sheathes and scabbards, and other compartments for storing weapons. I also learnt how to sew and knit from a very nice cyclops. I've got cloaks, hoods, capes, tons of other stuff. I have also went on missions to retrieve certain materials, this kind of making the days pass slowly. You can figure out that I have been here for a while, or their training was relentless.

They said they had something to give me, themselves. I have this feeling that whatever they do intend on giving me will be great. But I don't worry about that. All of this was really starting to get to me internally, along with the thing Hades had somehow managed to show me. That was wearing at my mind, making me this tiny bit suspicious. And another constant is that I no longer have premonitions, simply because they are displayed on my LED plasma screen television. Talk about torture.

I am simply laying in my bed contently, snuggling into the pillow. I savour every moment I get with this. There was a bright flash of light, distorting the normally dark encasing of my closed eyes. It startled me, as my eyes snapped open, trying to find what could possibly disturb my pillow time. It turns out to be a backpack, in the clutter of my room. A backpack. In my room, next to me on the mattress. With a Caduceus in a stylised fashion. I began laughing. Seriously? Now?

A note appears and I read it aloud.

Dear Percy Jackson,

I am so very apologetic that I couldn't at least do this earlier, or attempt to rescue you from Tartarus. I am sorry I failed you there. However, I have offered you this gift. Whether or not you receive this, once again I am sorry that I can't offer you anything more. Father has forbidden me from traveling down there. I know that you are alive, because Uncle told me that you received his message.  
This gift is unconditional, its for you to use in any way you see fit. This gift is a backpack, as you can see, and it has unlimited storage space, but it will always remain hollow; light-weight. You can also summon all basic foods or ingredients, and any supply, as long as it isn't too large or complicated. There's also Ambrosia and Nectar, if you so need this. For easy carrying, this can morph into a small bracelet. It's also resistant to weather, terrain, and almost anything else you can think of.  
In addition, there's also a special tablet inside for your use, and this also stores a list of items, and there's other cool apps there. There's also a phone, but sorry, no long-range reception.

Courtesy,  
your supply and messaging specialist,  
Hermes

I'm grateful that someone actually cares. And I will come to thank Hermes. I put the note into the backpack, and I go around putting in the fairly heavy armour, and the many other things now in my possession. All pretty damn sweet, though. Once everything is packed, I pick it up. Turns out it is actually quite light. I run my finger over a patch on the bag, and it instantly shrunk down into a small bracelet. Very light.

I exit the room, only finding the four figures waiting almost expectantly. I raised an eyebrow, "What's this?"

They gave shrugs, but Briares snapped two of his many fingers. He gave a small explanation, "Our gift to you is in that gift you have come to acquire. Hermes, relatively nice fellow. Shame he chose to not come down and visit."

I find myself rolling my eyes, but initially smiling. A new voice enters the equation. "I am sorry to inform you, but it is your time to depart, Percy." The laugh to follow was slightly sinister. Not quite evil. You could say insane.

I sighed and turned to face Iapetus.

"By the gods, I hate Kronos. Yes, whatever. Lets just go. I'll have to take a dive anyway."

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**A/N: Please review, I'm desperate. No, I am kidding. The next chapter will concern…you really think I'm spoiling it? No way! Its obvious anyway.**

**Oh, and also agree or disagree with the statement 'This author/story needs a Beta reader'. Give reasons why, or why not. **

**One more thought. Just take note that I'm in need of cover art, and in the future I will change the title of the fic. That's in time.**


	6. Temporary relief

**Disclaimer; I don't own PJO or HoO. Rick Riordan does. Besides, I don't think Rick Riordan is a young boy, attending Secondary School in Australia.**

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**A/N: This'll be a short note. I probably won't be able to post chapters every 2 weeks or so, considering I'll have school stuff to do. But I'll get plenty of time. Forgive me for any obvious or common mistakes within this story. I'm only young, probably shouldn't even be writing M-rated content. And I don't have a Beta, either.**

**A/N: Just one more thing. You might also notice that the chapters aren't on the highest level of quality, and aren't consistent in effort. Point it out, whatever. Also, Percy will become powerful, and show hints of instability. You might also think its harem. But let's get this straight, I need ideas for when after Percy exits Tartarus. So, as always, leave a review or something. I only want opinions of you readers. I'm out. Here's chapter 6…**

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Chapter 6: Temporary relief

Iapetus just grinned as I stepped out of what I consider my best home yet, in Tartarus. I find myself glaring at him, fingers lingering over my wrist with my bracelet. I'm immediately irritated by this obvious façade he shows, one of mental instability. And his attitude also plays on my mind, further aggravating me. He doesn't realise how dangerous I am with my armour alone. How merciless I could become. He sees nothing, nor does he see my hands or my newfound strength. He doesn't know my capabilities, how far I could go. I'm hoping to keep it that way.

I scowl, deciding that it is best to remain abrupt. "Iapetus, I ask that you listen to what I have to say just once, if at any time at all." He gave a subtle nod, his guise temporarily dropping. "I want you to note that my patience is limited, and your masquerade of mental instability does not affect my sight, nor am I blind to your beginnings. I will be only blunt with you, so, in turn, I ask that you remain straightforward and honest, even if you are as awful as you once were. However, it isn't my place to judge you in any plausible way."

You could see his smile, it was true, perhaps genuine. His face is now true, only his authentic emotions being portrayed. He began chuckling, which was a deep, strange sound. He spoke outwards, "It is good that you have come to properly recognise such a horrible façade of emotion, but I may have called your bluff. I hope that you are aware of our next trip, demigod. We will be able to escape Kronos' control and talk on private matters. But we have to make it worth while as you will come to bathe in the Rivers of the Underworld, and two other locations. He is going to make you earn your godhood. If you can survive the Rivers and the final two destinations, it is a sure sign of your success. And if you do fail, the consequences are dire. Now grab my arm."

He remained nonchalant, if that was possible, remaining calm as if it doesn't matter. It should at least hold some importance, because I'm sure it is not everyday that Kronos would willingly make a demigod, much less a child of Poseidon and the reason he failed his ascension from Tartarus, a god with large quantities of potential. I mean, even if he wishes to mould that demigod into his servant, a powerful being and leader in his own right.

I did grab his arm, however, and I saw darkness. I recognised this as an alteration of shadow travelling, similar to godly teleportation or flashing. I could feel the darkness around me, the fear instills within the back of my mind. I take note that I actually feel cold. For a brief second, my life flashes before my eyes. I frown, because I'm not actually dying yet I feel death's touch.

We reappear in front of a gateway arch, Iapetus seeming to mutter curses under his breath. My body lets out a shiver as I feel the breeze carrying through the arch. I almost laughed when I realised where we were. It had the sign 'Have a nice day! Or night! Goodbye Tartarus, hello Hades! Say hello to a whole new hell! Enjoy this because there are unfortunate beings currently screaming behind you, miles away!' I laughed at it, because let's face it. Blunt sarcasm is funny when you appreciate it. And it temporarily brought my mind off other things.

I did most unfortunately glance back, to hear the distant screams of the tortured, some of it emanating beyond the hills, some of it from the far away security compound. It made me savour this further. The collar also buzzed. I guess I need to be closer to the Prison in order for it to work effectively. Actually enjoying the sight, also noting that Tartarus itself actually is nearly perfectly cubic, and to access this archway you have to walk up steps from a secret entrance behind a hill. I realise that I can only see it because I am here with Iapetus.

Iapetus decided to offer his own input. "This is only accessible by me, or by any god who holds domain over here. Which, in truth, is no one. If you are lucky, maybe you. But another thing to add, even if another being were to find it, they would need some sort of approval otherwise it's closed off. So Kronos has to pay me handsomely for me to remain down here."

I just nodded, "This is convenient, I see." I muttered absent-mindedly. A presence was drawing my attention. And since you don't know, I have excellent spatial awareness with keen senses. My head whipped to the direction of a girl, one I would associate with innocence. But the aura also said goddess. Our gazes locked, and I know that I unsettled her. Iapetus also turned to look, suspicious.

He asked, "Who are you?"

She frowned in response, "I am surprised that you could see me at all. I have roamed here for many centuries, only to remain unnoticed. I see my mother has chosen you. She has seen well. You play a part in the future of both mortals and immortals alike, Perseus. A very important part. You could be the very mediator of the times to come. Why must I chose a man who already has the affection of so many others?"

She faded away, leaving us in confusion on that whole encounter. I actually began laughing, because that type of thing remains typical for me. I found myself a tiny bit agitated, however.

The screams pulled me out of my reverie, causing my vision and hearing to switch on. "That was odd." Iapetus had to say. I laughed, "Not really. Not down here, it isn't. We've both seen worse. Now, let's leave before this backfires completely." Iapetus agreed, "You have that point. Follow me, young demigod."

With that, we walk through the archway, leaving Tartarus and the screams of the damned, entering the realm of Hades and hearing the screams of the accursed. I would prefer neither but alias, I'm stuck down here with Iapetus, having no choice in having to take a dive in the rivers of the Underworld, and then further becoming a god under his control. That certainly isn't something I am enthusiastic about. I do appreciate the fact that I seem to be getting along fine with the beings who have a common enemy with me.

I find that the gate is like a portal, as we just pop out of it onto the surface beneath Hades' palace. I remember coming here, a very long time ago. I stumble, but the Titan beside me makes sure that I do not crash into the wall. I could hear the sinister sounds of below, and I find myself edging away from the hole we had just arrived from. I really don't want to enter there again, immediately. I find the space around me small, with the only visible exit the stairs that ascend up and out.

Some of the people may be wondering why I don't use this chance to escape, or at least be excited. Let's not forget that I have a shock collar that is controlled by the Titans, including Iapetus. If I attempt to run, you must understand that I will be shocked beyond belief. Trust me, it hurts. And I can't find it in myself to be happy with the fact that I have exited the pit, however brief that does remain. And this trip also includes stumbling into a substance made of something resembling acid. But tenfold. And I am to also lay within a river that will wash my memories away and perhaps forever numb my wounds. Then there's swimming in fire.

As you may have figured out, I really am not looking forward to this. With these thoughts roaming my head, Iapetus 'guides' me up these polished marble-coloured stairs, wordlessly. He doesn't push me, treating me like something fragile, which is something that can be applied to anyone, without so much as a thought. It still could be considered true, I cannot doubt it. But he offers assistance when I stumble, which happens to be something of a common habit of mine.

I simply shake it off, trudging on to our next destination. Which is a particular exit to this network of tunnels. One that will get us past the gates of Hades and Cerberus, onto the banks of the river Styx. At the first intersection or fork, I allowed Iapetus to take charge because he's probably used these tunnels. I would think he created them. It was my turn to follow the giant being in front of me, but a few more times than once had I whacked my head against a solid surface.

We began to pass ghosts and ghouls, but Iapetus just waved his hand and we passed through unnoticed. It wasn't all a surprise to me, but I did begin to find the more common scores of dead spirits unnerving. But I kept on moving, breathing lightly, noticing that this dude remains unfazed as we basically walk through them. I have to learn that. I begin to hear the chatter they emit, with no purpose, and I notice that it seems to increase in temperature around me. I now realise that Hades now has a very large domain at hand, concerning the dead.

We do finally push through one last barrier, returning to the open air. I breathe in, trying to suck up the cleanest air I have felt in a long time. Even if this air is heavily polluted by who-knows-what, it's still better than Tartarus. I feel the breathing of another being a split second before I hear my name. "Perseus?" Someone had called. The tone was icy cold, not with hate or distaste but with actual cold. It suggested disbelief, shock evident. But to be frank, his undertone also suggested fear. Of what, I can't guess.

My gaze swept from side to side, turning around, only to find the man himself. Speak of the Devil, and the Devil shall answer. I'm one inclined to agree with that.

I see him in all his pale grace, the one and only Hades. I see an emotion in his eyes as he scans my body, on that I have never seen in his eyes. Concern. Bless this god's soul. He wears the typical punk-rocker clothing, even if there are multiple styles of punk. Think Billy Joel Armstrong. It's new for him. He's still as pale as ever, and his eyes are still those of a mad genius. He wears a crimson cloak, the souls still woven into it. He also has chains of various metals, and a still shiny sword. Don't forget the evil charisma.

I had to comment. "I see that you're still looking good, uncle. This punk thing really caught up to you, didn't it?" The social gene has finally came into effect. He scowled, completely ignoring my question. "It's nice to see you too, Perseus. Iapetus, is Kronos already up to this stage?" He turned to Iapetus, slightly irritated.

Iapetus just grinned in reply, "Oh how you have no idea, Hades. None at all. Kronos has major plans for this boy, ones that the Olympians will come to deny in their arrogance. No offence." He replied quickly. Hades was instant to reply, "So I've been told. None taken. But are you sure that it is best that the boy goes into the rivers immediately? I am sure that it wouldn't be all that bad of an idea if you were to prepare him for the long run. I'm sure Kronos would agree."

I could feel the collar buzzing, and I could no longer contain myself. "Will you be silent," I hiss. "Are you unaware as to what I have to face as a consequence of the council's decision? Do you know that Kronos is rising? Are you aware of the fact that I am here? Are you aware that this chatter will result in my death at the hands of Zeus, via a spy that is currently watching us west of here? Are you aware that I am restraining myself because you are the only one of perhaps 3 Olympians that I still come to respect? Are you aware that half of my body has been burnt severely, I have lost multiple toes and fingers, one thumb, broken countless bones, sprained both my ankles five times over, plus other injuries I do not wish to utter in fear of pain? Are you aware that none have come to properly heal? Do you know that I have been abused enough to make any god fall to their knees, begging for mercy? Are you aware that the only reason I live comes at the price of being partially immortal? Do you know what they have done to me? Most importantly, do you realise the council's mistake in casting me into Tartarus, in spite of my deeds? Do you know I do not want immortality? Do you know death would come as a blessing? Understand that I am the mortal bearing the consequences of the choice made by gods. Remember that when the world is in turmoil, and you don't have your precious heroes to help you."

They turned to stare in the distance, eyes narrowed. Hades then preceded to stare at me as a malicious aura surrounds my body. I begin to glower, and the air around me lights up with energy. A light of many colours. I feel my energy waver as I collapse onto the ground, heaving for air. My mouth is dry, because I haven't ranted like that in a long time. Hades snaps his fingers, and a water bottle appears in his hands. One full of clear, sparkling water. Probably from the best lake on the surface, or an underground spring solely for the purpose of clean water.

With a grin, and a few dry pleading words from me, Hades finally throws me the bottle that I catch and chug all the liquid water down my throat. I don't use it for its healing effects on my body anymore. There's really no point in doing so. I finish the bottle quickly, panting. It's been just as long a time that I have gone without proper water. The only times I'd be offered water was when I was getting tortured by Kempe. But she wouldn't dare let my body soak it up, unless it was poisonous. Then, well, damn her and I am happy she is no longer permitted to do that. It's also the reason I no longer come to trust those naturally inherited powers, but rely on the broad range of abilities of the mark.

I'm not very trustworthy with my powers, okay?

I almost get onto my knees, thanking him gratefully. He rolled his eyes in response. I stood up, brushing away the dust that had collected on my pants. He once again furrows his eyebrows in concentration, staring intently into space where the spy should be. He suddenly spoke, startling me. "He will be dealt with later. But as you may or may not be aware of, you are scheduled to take a dive in the rivers. I will grant both you and Iapetus permission to stay within my domain until your time is up, but I must ask a favour of you, Perseus."

Iapetus then just strolled off, whistling inconspicuously to a tune a vaguely recognise as a song that was popular from before I was thrown in here. I know he has one ear trained on our conversation, it is impossible for him not to.

Hades turned to stare at me, saying, "You may or may not like this but I ask of you something small, however dangerous," his tone was completely serious, and his eyes made sure I am aware of my own answer.

"I, you see, along with my wife Persephone, will be going to Olympus to spend some time with my only son and my mother-in-law/sister. I also have to inform the council of the activities in my domain, as they themselves can't see unless they go in with my permission which is unlikely, or they sneak in. But getting back to the point. I also chose this date because this coincides with your arrival, and in order to, ahh," he spoke, gesturing to me, "keep this situation under the covers, I must leave. It's a favour for you, really. If I remained here for you to see in plain sight, someone will talk with Zeus and I will be forced to explain yourself. This favour is better than the alternative."

He seems awfully nervous, scared about my reaction. It's obvious, as he is stalling. I urged, "Spit it out, Hades. My patience is nearing."

He managed to speak out quickly, "You see, Persephone has taken it upon herself to train a few god-lings, my only demigod daughter and a few other half-bloods who are in need of training. I had given in, and allowed it. But as you know, she is heading to Olympus and they still need to learn the basics of weapons…"

The dramatic expression on my face would have been priceless in any other situation, even to myself. "Noooo…" I almost collapse onto the ground, drawling out the O sound. I was silently cursing under my breath.

Hades was quick to add bait, "But do not fret, I have rewards that you will receive before you do leave, and it will be something proving valuable against your plans to fight my father. It will be much easier to conceal the other weapon you have created, because this will be your alternative. And don't think this is a choice." He added in a stern tone, kind of freaking me out. If The Lord of the Dead wants out with a few god-lings, they must be something beyond the place he resides, or the place below. They must be worse than hell.

Before he does leave, I make sure to note aloud, "Fine. You clearly aren't giving me that choice. But do please thank dearest Hermes for his gifts when you do reach Olympus. And do be cautious while doing so. But give me preparation time for me to come to meet these young immortals. I have to make sure I don't allow them to recognise me when I they will come to learn of the tales of Perseus Jackson. Goodbye, Hades. I am in hope that I won't regret this."

He gives a nod, before clapping. I am enveloped in a dark light, before I now only see darkness. The scene clears to show new surroundings. I find myself in a small cabin with Iapetus, who had also miraculously shrunk down to fit inside the cabin. His power output is drastically less than in his full form, and I could actually see his face. He was a man at the age of thirty, with eyes that sucked up the light around them. But in his eyes, I could see every emotion or feeling ever produced by the mortals, but death was more than common.

He sits on a bar stool next to the bench top, and gestures for me to take the one next to him. I did so. Two cups of nectar materialised in front of us, and Iapetus takes his own. Assuming the other is mine, I grasped it. He took a sip, and I mimicked his movements. I came to taste my comfort food, one that will remain mine forever. He made a sound to show his pleasure, smiling. He spoke first, "Is there something on your mind, demigod?" His voice sounded more youthful, actually suiting a man 30 years of age.

I replied with a frown, "No, Iapetus. Only reminiscing about a time long ago, for me." He grinned, asking "It's about the nectar, yes? What does it taste like? And please, in this form I am not Iapetus, but Bob. It makes more sense, considering this is a mortal form."

I raised an eyebrow, "Okay then, Bob. Yes it's about the nectar. The nectar tastes like my mother's blue choc chip cookies. But they remain so foreign to me, that at first it was unfamiliar." His eyes lit up as he said "Yes, Sally Jackson. Lover of Poseidon, a woman with a pure heart with only other's well-being considered before her own. Nice lady. I really do have to try those cookies one day." .

Silence had befallen us, once again.

Just to begin, Bob sparks conversation. "You are aware that Hades, dear Hades, has a soft spot for you. Right?" He asks. I raise an eyebrow once again, "How so?" I question him. It was a simple question, but it was one that should be answered in all fairness.

He only grins, "He has gifted you. Here, I make note to mention that he didn't have to go to so much trouble because you are, after all, his brother's son. And you were in Tartarus. And you reek of death, and wealth. He has obviously blessed you. Why? That is simple. You have proved to him that you are someone who is worthy of his respect. You have escaped his domain not once, but twice. You have given him more of a say within the council, and given him greater respect within the camps. You have befriended his son when others wouldn't dare go near him, and you have wept over the loss of his daughter, carrying the burden of grief and blame, not protesting others. In fact, you should have no love for him as a son of his brother, but you have showed your concern in multiple ways. After you were disowned in shame, what was there to comfort you within the first week of Tartarus? Only the shadows that roam such a faraway place. I can go on, but Hades cares much more than what he shows."

My mouth is gaping as I stare at him, his remark replaying through my head.

He clears his throat. "The point of that is to explain that you will be on the receiving end of my training. While here, I will help you overcome your emotions, and master them. I will also assist you in the use of shadows and domains underground, unseen. The way this will help you is that when you do take the dives, the rivers won't overcome you, and you will pass on unharmed. And I will also teach you a few things with the sword and spear. But you need a few blessings for that. I already have an idea.."

He snapped his fingers, and I feel the strangest of sensations. He gives a short explanation, "That is my own blessing. You will find that you can assess certain things more easily, and determine weakness where there is none. Every being has a mortal point. Every creature has one flaw or weakness, and in battle this will prove useful. You'll exploit this. It also will help in other aspects."

He snapped his fingers, and two women appear in front of me. Bob smiles at both of them, inclining his head. The first one wore simple clothing, a simple dress with a veil, concealing her face. Only her mouth could be seen.

The second one was a little more eccentric. She wears something of a typical punk rocker chick, like Thalia. Her hair is cut short, spiky and pointed in all directions, in a stylised fashion. Her skin is pale, but applies a small amount of dark make-up. Her black jeans are ripped, and there are slogans spray-painted all over them. Her top half is basically just a black shirt with a phrase printed over it, with a jacket slung over her shoulders, one made of leather no doubt. There are a few chains around her waist, one displayed as a belt. But I do note the Stygian Iron accessories she wears discreetly, and the fact that I can sense the Stygian Iron infused with Titanium and mortal metals, in the chains. Her eyes are strange, for sure. Her eyes were a mix between red and black. More black, with little specks of red. Those eyes were emitting all emotions that revolve around hate, and her aura was that of hatred.

The second one had a scowl on her face, but her gaze soon wandered to me. She suddenly took interest of me, smiling, but her gaze caused my spine to tingle, and I shivered from its intensity. The other was expressionless, revealing none of her inner feelings. I recognise the first one and come to bow. I swear I see a trace of a smile on her lips.

I had the feeling that I already knew who the second one was, but couldn't place her. The first one, the more elegant of the two, snapped her fingers, saying "I will not overstay what time is due, brother. Have fun with the god-lings."

She disappeared like that.

The other one had a sadistic, definitely sinister smile that anyone at first look would either ignore, or run away from. Quite frightening. She began to speak, "Well looky here. It's Bob and the seriously f—ked up immortal in training. Even if I admit that boy is looking very handsome, considering he no longer has the curse of my River Styx. But I know exactly what you want, Iapetus. I'll give it to you, but I'll say a few things first. I give you the ability to control the waters of the Styx, and take another dive, but remove the conditions of receiving a mortal anchor. But your mind will be further screwed about, just a warning. And you will begin to have random, spontaneous outbursts as hate can't be completely controlled. Oh, and I'll give you a few other things to assist you along the way."

With that, she stepped forward and kissed me on the lips, passionately might I add. She held my arms back with surprising strength, and I was pushed back until I hit the wall. We still continued, so I just accepted with a mental sigh, allowing my arms to ease. I returned it with the same passion, and my arms find themselves around her waist. We continue, me totally immersed into it, but inside me was screaming at my body to stop. The fire of passion burned, fuelled by her hate and my suddenly intense feelings.

Bob clears his throat and she suddenly backs away, her pale cheeks flushed red. I raised an eyebrow in silent question. She answered aloud, "I really just wanted to do that." And she disappeared instantly.

I knew that my cheeks must have been heated red, from either embarrassment, or rage, or some other emotion I couldn't come to name. The Titaness' blessing finally came into effect with a puff of smoke, causing me to cough as the smoke travels into my mouth. The smoke does clear with a few waves of my hand, and I instantly felt different. I saw gloves on my hands, with a different set of clothes. There was an eyepatch over my left eye, covering a scar that a monster had left during my assessment. That was some time ago, and it only seemed to get worse. I had managed to hide it from Hades. But my vision has been severely affected, constantly playing up.

Then, like a fist, it hit me. Hard. It was spontaneous, and directed solely at my mind. It was like the weight of an anvil, and the emotions rushed through into my mind. A whimper escapes my mouth as I collapse onto the ground, clutching my head with my hands. My body shakes as the emotions slowly, but steadily overwhelm my brain and I find myself losing control. I know this is a side-effect of what I have received.

My one visible eye must have been glowing, because I as myself could see nothing as the hate finally allowed itself to show. I stream of vile curses escape my lips as the faces of each Greek Olympian, each traitor, burn brightly within the dark confines of my mind. I re-list them in my head.

The first, Apollo. I thought that perhaps as the god of truth, he may have been aware of my innocence. He just sat there, laying low, face guilty. I take his silence as an answer. I may be willing to relent, if he is willing to admit that his choice was incorrect, and speak up in front of the council.

Dionysus. I couldn't come to expect much from him, truthfully. He never liked me, but we had finally found a mutual respect for each other, as I had traveled through Tartarus, managing to remain sane. He wasn't even paying proper attention, staring at a pretty little minor goddess he wanted to have. His punishment will be sweet.

Ares. That bastard. The fucking War Brat, thinking himself higher than the rest of them. He is nothing. Not even a atom underneath my foot. That pathetic runt chose to vote against me, only on personal biased. In his mind, I deserve this. I could see the hate in his eyes, not a flicker of mercy. He certainly won't get any from me.

And how could I forget, Zeus. That name was said with more venom than the others, because I blame him for everything wrong with my life. Who do I blame for accusing me of a crime he himself knows that I did not commit? The melodramatic king who commands everything, remaining disrespectful to his disciples and subjects. The spark of victory that I could see in his eyes when he officially charged me. And that malicious grin that appeared on his mouth when the bolt of electricity hit me, frying me. I had screamed, and I only know that his thoughts were sadistic as I faded away from the living realm. I will see that retribution for all of the innocent souls that have paid because of him is served, and he'll be the one paying for those deeds.

Another name occurs in my head, further igniting the inner fire of my intense hatred for the Olympian council. Poseidon. The Sea Scum of the council. The god who truly believes the brother he believes untrustworthy over his own son. For that, he hurt me the most. He had even stooped so far to disown me, and even this was impossible, but he had the spell that saw it happen. My emotions are unpredictable when it concerns him, because anything can happen. But I saw his eyes. They were staring at me with disgust, disapproval, disbelief, sadness, and hatred. I couldn't believe the sight of his gloomy green eyes. It still puzzles me today when I think about the eyes. He'll regret his choice, I will make sure of it. And he'll both see and feel the power, face to face.

Various other names swirled in my head. Hera, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Artemis, Demeter. And various other gods that had attended. They did nothing but sit down and watch Zeus, raising their hands when necessary. The thing is, they never spoke against me, but they never dared oppose Zeus either. The thing that bothers me is that they did nothing to prevent it, or at least offer some parting gift that could have proven useful in survival against the Titans. But the Titans ain't all that bad. Rational thought soon took over my mind, offering some clarity. The hate fades away, for now, and I sit back down on the chair. Another name burns in the back of my mind. Athene. She's a whole other matter entirely.

I breathe in, trying to control the hate that is boiling up inside of me. I begin to glare at the bench, attempting to focus on something else, but my eye seemed to create a hole in the side of the bench. I mean, it literally burned. I felt Bob's hand on my shoulder. "Perseus, I am here for a reason. That reason being to make sure you are not injured further than what you already are, and to make sure you don't get onto the surface," a bitter laugh escaped my mouth, "but I came voluntarily. I don't have to be here."

His hand dropped, and I was left to ponder his statement, brain working quickly to decipher the hidden meaning. With my greater intelligence, my mind came to an answer quickly. My jaw parted as I spoke. "Oh, I see. I can trust you, like that way?"

I did not wish to risk it, in fear of me getting electrified alive. But, he spoke instead. "Yes, in that way. You may be surprised by how many of us are actually behind you, and what plans we have. Even if the majority of us still don't like you, we are against the way Kronos rules. I'll explain in a slightly easier way. We have plans on rebellion, and resistance against Kronos. I'm behind you, along with most of the Titans. And no, we weren't all that evil. Just Kronos, and his sick ways. You also have other supporters as well, ones I will not dare say, otherwise I fear for the well-being of Hades' domain. That's why we will make sure you receive greater training, and extend your abilities. We will not speak of this again, until the time is right."

I laughed in the most sinister way possible, in my head. Because I know what I could do with so much power. But I didn't laugh aloud, no. I don't want to make Iapetus or Bob think I'm mentally unstable, yeah? That won't help my cause.

With that, the room turned silent. Something ticked at my mind, the thing Hades said earlier. Confused, I asked "Didn't I have a group of younglings to oversee or something?" The grin on his face kind of made me regret saying it in the first place. "Yes. Yes you did."

He snapped his fingers, and with that, the door creaked open. He snapped his fingers once again and a group of children in the various stages of adolescence entered, looking slightly terrified. I could feel their auras, and I recognised that maybe a whole third had godly ones. A scowl found itself on my face as they begin to stare at me curiously, not talking at all. It was unnerving, as children were staring at me. I find the lingering gazes of the girls, and the jealous glances of the males. Why, I wouldn't know. A few had caught my attention almost immediately.

I stare back at them in return, allowing my lone eye to show my disgust. I spoke out, "Listen here, little god-lings. I don't tolerate anyone's shit, and I'm only doing this so Hades will allow me to stay here, and keep quiet about me. Almost like blackmail. Anyway, to the point. Outside this room, you say nothing of me, or what will be taught to you. Obey any orders I give you, as it is for your well-being. I am going to teach you the basic use of a sword, dagger and any other weapon I can wield with accuracy. That does not include archery. But if you are already sufficient in that particular weapon, I will begin advanced training. After you are well-acquainted with lone combat, you'll be working as a team where together, you'll be training and studying the Art of War. Hopefully, I can learn a thing or two along with you. But I doubt that." I used my best sardonic laugh, grinning like a madman.

Most of them groaned in irritation whilst others stared in astonishment, and a few looked horrified and genuinely scared. Those last ones were especially comical.

Bob just raised an eyebrow, not saying a word. My hands drummed at the table next to me as I spoke.

"But first, I must learn a few things. Speak."

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**So, what do you think? And know that I randomly created this on a whim. Let's hope you like it. I think.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer; I don't own ****_Percy Jackson and the Olympians _****or the Heroes of Olympus. I'm not Rick Riordan or his publisher, therefore I don't own the copyrights. ****_However unfortunate that may be…_**

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**A/N: Well, I'm here. Just so you know, I've had things to attend to, like school. Ever heard of it? I didn't think so. And that means, I don't also have a life. That's good, because I'm an introvert, and I hate attention. But whatever. I apologise in advanced if you are a current reader, looking forward to this chapter, and it kinda disappointed you. I'm sorry. But still, your opinion is appreciated. Leave a review, or even P.M. me. I don't demand anything, but ****_come on. _****Six thousand words. Do you know how much that is, what kind of time I have to donate when I could be doing my homework?**

**But thankfully, ****_thankfully, _****my class form is doing a unit on short stories, so I'll be practicing my 3rd person writing narration. But that also means less time writing fanfiction, but at least I've got about half the chapter written up. And I'll be taking another project on, soon, where I'll be doing the rewrite/edit/adoption of ****_Of Entities and Essences. _****Its a Chaos story. But with a twist. Anyway, to the point. I'm asking that you at least leave some form of input, because frankly, this does tend to get boring.**

**And I'll just note that I'm aware of the whole out of character Athena and Kronos, but there is always an explanation to someone's actions. And I'm trying to portray the other Titans as good guys, because are you aware that the PJO and HoO series is based off **_**Greco-Roman Mythology? **_**Wow, I'm almost certain you don't. So therefore, I'm allowed to portray them in their original forms. Neither Hyperion, Oceanus and the female Titans portrayed fighting the gods. Coeus (Koios) is given only a brief mention, and Iapetus is now Bob, whilst Krios will be given little attention in this. The girl in the previous chapter (the unidentified one) will be further used within the story. And is also from Mythology. A clue: she is the child of a female Titan and will lead **_**A dawning age**_**_. _****That last bit was random, but it gives you a vital clue. That's all I'll write.**

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**Shout out: I'm shouting out to ****_Athena Sage, _****for her awesome review that was completely unexpected, but the following enthusiasm that ensued certainly increased my morale. From where ever in Singapore you may be, thank you! So, yeah. Reviews like that keep me posting. So, here my newest chapter is. And the puzzle pieces will slowly connect!**

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Chapter 7

My knuckles turned white as I clenched my fists, because I had learned of some of these _startling_ revelations. I am sure they saw the light in my lone eye, my anger coming into force. I'm sure that is why they decided to keep a good distance away from me. I don't just feel anger, because someone in rage surely wouldn't cry. Or at least, tears wouldn't threaten to escape the eye of he. I attempt to control my now unsteady breathing, the next stage of my denial coming into effect. But my facial expression remains impassive; stoic. For this, it is best for them to keep their distance, otherwise I fear for their lives.

I see the suspicion in their eyes, at my reaction to their explanation of what I wished to know. The hatred for the Olympians in my stomach is only further increased as images seemed to ring through my head. I'm now shaking from the pent up anger. I know Bob can see my inner battle for control. The choice to either send them back to Olympus, as dead bodies, or allow them to remain in my presence. A laugh escaped my lips. One displaying the now evil nature I possess, and the madness that comes so close to enveloping my mind.

Their seemingly self-appointed leader decided to do the most unwise thing to do, while accompanying me in this state. It doesn't help that his father is Zeus. He spoke up, against me. "Now, who in, well, here, are you?" He asked, his hand moving to his scabbard, along with some of the others moving to draw their weapons.

A malicious laugh escaped my lips as I grinned. I spoke in a tone that had the hidden message of _don't cross me or there will be dire consequences._ I was taunting him. "You really don't want to do that, little god-ling brat. I've fought against enemies far above your league of power. Even your own father's league. But that isn't saying much. I have faced quite a few enemies in the past, and trust me when I say this: you will not want me as your enemy. You can attempt to run me over with that sword of yours. But that won't be happening. Because I'm angry."

My body moved without any guidance from my mind. Within an instant, I was in front of him. In another blink, I was behind his disarmed form, his sword at his own neck. They stepped back in impulse, and his mouth fell to the ground as he stands there in shock. He managed to stammer out. "Who a-are you?"

Another laugh escaped my lips as I began. "Who am I? Or who I was? Who I was isn't important anymore. But allow me to tell you something. I haven't had contact with the surface above in a very long time. I've been isolated for a very long time, given nothing. No food, no water, nothing I wish to have. Which isn't much. I live as a mortal, yet I am alive. Yet I get everything important, to the ones I consider treacherous. I get love, however one-sided it may be. I am tortured, and in odd ways too. And I will soon be immortal, where I will be alive, yet I will not be free, nor is this a blessing. Consider this a simple riddle. It is simple as it is straightforward. This will be the answer to who I was. Who I am? That's only for me to know and for you to never find out. Because if you do happen to discover this, I only pray for your well-being."

With that trivial scene, I walk away and open the door with more force than necessary, slamming it much harder and effectively breaking its hinges. My hands shake as I come to wish to exert my anger against something, something that will be able to last against me long enough to quell all of my raging emotions. My hands reach the top of my head, pulling at the strands of my hair, threatening to harm me further. And cause prominent pain. I find it odd that my hairs haven't turned grey from all the stress I've been offered. But I guess Kronos wouldn't allow it, because I'm his beautiful little thing.

The anger slowly begins to cloud my vision as I come to a small building, the door open just a fraction. But I knew perfectly well of what this is. That's why I enter. On the other side, the building is hollowed, and the floor beneath me is covered with a thin layer of sand, making my footing easier. Before my anger can consume me, one of my weaker blades is summoned and I give a diagonal slash, upwards. To any opponent, a deep slash directed up along the chest would have had him dead, but this automaton just turned on. I grin as its lights flare to a start, taking up a basic yet aggressive combat stance, sword in hand.

A grin of anticipation made itself visible upon my face as the thing charged, moving about in a blur. I barely had time to thrust my sword up, and it didn't help being limited to one eye. It pushed, using its strength to push me back a few steps. Our swords are locked tightly together, a battle of strength. Slowly, ever so slowly, I begin to take charge of this fight and my strength proves to be winner, as I use my shoulders to shove it backwards. Our swords disconnect, and now it is time for our swords to clash, each evading and parrying each other's blows, thrusting and hacking in return. All of my anger, all my emotion is being spent with the intensity of my strikes.

With one simple yet complex manoeuvre, I have it disarmed and pinned to the ground, my sword tip resting just below its head. I speak one word. "Yield?" All it did was move in a blur, backing away from my blade. Silently. All I did was grunt in return, preparing for another round of onslaughts.

All I can do is grunt as we fight with everything but our bodies, and bows. It seems to have an endless array of weapons, varying from size to design. By the last round of battle, my arms are weak, and my legs are stiff. The automaton shuts down, in order to recharge. My head sways from side to side, dizzy from the amount of effort I have used. It's been a while since I've really been able to stretch my legs, allowing my body to run on adrenaline alone. Even during my little tests, I had been conserving energy and only using a majority of my power. Not all of it, unlike today, where I ran on a full motor. Sure, it wasn't as fast as the time when I was a blur, and managed to bring Kronos to the ground. Of just previously. Still fast, however.

I have to lean against the brick wall to steady my eyesight, attempting to keep my balance. And managing to do so. I sigh, calming my heart rate. It beats faster with the adrenaline, or an intense emotion overrides all of my logical thoughts. Either one works perfectly fine. I exit the building with a simple cloak and pair of trousers, allowing my shirtless form to been seen across the lands. And to also show my scars, warning the others. The shocker was visible to even the worst vision of men, displaying the trap I live within. Thankfully, beings now tend to avoid me because of the malicious aura I emit. It proves to be satisfactory when I want to get away, but I still draw the attention of others because of it.

My footsteps are light as I walk the path back through Hades, striding past the domains of the dead and Tartarus, coming to lay down on a hill overlooking all five rivers of the Underworld. By extension, I can see everything else. Including the port of the ferryman Charon, and the constant arrival of the dead. And hellhounds. And the Furies. Depressing, I'm aware. But the hill is surprisingly soft, created with grass and other natural materials. So when I lie on its surface, a sigh of content escapes my lips, and I close my visible eye. It's the closest thing to peace that I will come to receive, even with the scary noises of the Underworld.

A presence is felt beside me, laying down. On their stomach. A frown finds itself onto my lips, as I wonder why someone would dare approach me. I know how much I can scare people, to what extent, and I enjoy it. I don't have a problem with it. But knowing that a person would dare lay next to me, much less a mortal, really irks me. My eyes flutter open to meet hauntingly familiar eyes. They were the colour of obsidian, but a shade lighter, and it revealed the mind of a genius. Her skin was pale, and there were a few freckles in contrast. She gave a lazy smile, her eyes shining.

Then I snapped out of my state of mind.

I inwardly curse as my attention is constantly drawn to those eyes, but I speak. "Which one them are you, and what are you doing here?" I questioned suspiciously.

She had a frown on her face as she said. "You don't remember me, do you? Because I can't forget you. Let's get this straight, I wanna learn about you on my own, privately, and just talk. They still hate me because of my father. Who am I? That's easy. I am Brooke, to anyone but myself. I am also the only living daughter of Hades. Plenty of Pluto children, but I'm all alone! I can't believe it either. That bastard."

I raised an eyebrow. "Have we met before? Because you just said…" I trailed off, unable to think of a full response.

She snapped in return. "I know what I said, dumb-ass! I'm not brain dead, or deaf. The thing is, being the daughter of Hades - a considerably powerful one at that - I also remember my past life, which doesn't end well for me at all." Her last bit was considerably more serious, and her attitude made me smile. Ever so slightly.

I got the gist of it, and my thoughts were projected aloud. "So, you're saying that we've met previously, in your previous life? Please, daughter of Hades, tell me how this is so. For all you know, I might've have been born. Or I was in another life."

There was a scowl on her mouth as she preceded to glare at me. "We both know who I'm talking about, sweetie. You seriously don't know how much courage it takes to just speak in front of you, how much effort I had to put in to find you. And what the hell? What's wrong with those Olympian pricks? And don't worry, Nico hasn't figured it out yet. But when he does find about you being in the Underworld, right under his nose, and that I'm her, he won't exactly be happy, ya know? He'll find a way to reach you, then kill you, then resurrect you, then begin the process all over again."

I gave a sigh, having to agree with the girl on that point. With a blink, I'm trapped under her as her hips straddle my front. I groan, because why must this happen to me? And how in Hades did I get here? I'm going to kill you, author, for this horrible twist early in the chapter. This usually happens at the end, where you don't describe the scenes at all. But I can't stop, ah, Brooke, from having her fun. The fun I imagine to be her vivid fantasy.

There was a wicked grin on the girl's face as she whispers in my ear. "Hmm, I don't feel like getting naughty today, but I'm sure you can wait a while. But let's just talk for today." She caressed my jawline, rolling over. The screams around us weren't drowned out as she gave a sigh, our gazes drawn up to the netherworld's roof. It wasn't a conventional roof of sorts, because it seemed an even further challenge of travel than Tartarus, which doesn't surprise me at all. My mind travels to more important things, like, why are those eyes so hauntingly familiar? Is she a stalker? Why is she doing this? Why am I the object of her affection? Why do Eros and Aphrodite love messing with me? Why is my time down here becoming a story filled with harem, with quite a few sexual references?

My brain couldn't answer any of those questions. They just pass me by, like most things. But the hand in my grasp doesn't. I turn to glance over at this random girl in front of me, a girl who claims she knows who I am, giving me her love. Her eyes are just so bright, and I can tell the shine is unnatural, almost completely foreign. It resembles something akin to hope. And the gleam, the light of expectation, and love. It pulls at the very few heart-strings I still possess. I feel like melting into Tartarus, because surely a stalker wouldn't look so innocent, so sweet. But who am I to say anything? I'm no shrink. I don't know how another's mind works, much less my own. I don't know its processes, or personas and façades. I don't know why someone was triggered to do this, and someone else did that in turn. I don't know how my mind is slowly degrading to the point of being paranoid; unstable.

Suddenly, a thought occurred.

I gave a sigh, rolling over. A question escapes my lips. "Might I ask, what are those blasted god-lings like? I am informed that they aren't all that great to deal with, especially since it came from the mouth of Hades…" I asked this, the last part escaping my mouth, trailing off into the distance.

She gave a sigh, frowning. There's contempt in those eyes. The words spit out hastily. "That's something I'd hate to discuss. There's a few that are okay. Okay, most are them are okay, but they make poor choices. But there are the ones that stand out as jerks, and are pure asshole material. And the majority of the others, I hold them in contempt for the way I am treated. There are the oddballs, the dorks, nerds. And there's the rest. It's like something you'd find in a high school, and its a shame its expanded down to much younger children who really shouldn't be exposed to it. When we're all together, its usually chaotic, unless we are in the presence of a being far above our league of ability."

A smile found its way onto my lips, but she wasn't completely done finished speaking. "And the thing is, there's this new ring of gossip in the past two hours. I do believe you understand what I'm trying to say."

I continued staring quizzically, waiting for an answer. She finally relented. "The, ahem, 'gossip' spreading around the girls happens to be you. Yes, I know. I'm sure you aren't at all pleased with this, but its hard not to talk about a mysterious guy with a bitter attitude directed towards us, with a malicious aura and an eye-patch. It's implying that you're a bad boy. Which means that you, ah, appeal to adolescent (in appearance) girls going through the rebellious stage. And especially since your swagger is that of an Alpha Male, and you are drawing the attention of the girls, their potential mates, the boys, are rather jealous, and the talk will surely expand. But I'm sure they got the clue when you warned them to say nothing outside of your lodge. And by the way, Bob is looking after the mob in your absence. He isn't at all happy to do so, but he really doesn't have a choice. But he's got them in line, having to use some of that awesome power of his. And no, I wasn't sent to find you. They don't even realise I've gone away from the cabins. I'm nobody that way. So, yeah. I think it's best if you take charge."

I manage to understand most of what she had said, but some of it didn't make much sense at all. All I do in reply is nod reassuringly throughout her whole speech, making sure to savour the feeling of the grass beneath my body. Rolling over, I stand up slowly, using both my hands to steady my feet. The girl joins me on my feet, her head on my chest. I sigh, allowing the sounds of hell to overcome my ears, and all other sounds are lost within them. Our breathing. Our pulsing hearts. Our footsteps. It was something that would freak many others, but not us. The daughter of this Hell's god and me, the boy who now fears nothing and has lived to feel the torture and the torment of the Hell god's father.

We walk through this place, making sure to keep away from the prying eyes of minor gods and beasts that serve my enemies. Or are my enemies. I've got plenty of them. But our feet remain soundless as we stride along the river bank, as are our mouths. We move quickly, returning to my temporary home in good time. I force the door open once again, just to play with the minds of my charges. They were surely spooked by my sudden appearance, furthermore, wondering as to why the girl is accompanying me, almost casually. I give them my most wicked grin, and almost smirk at the relieved expression on Bob's face.

They continue staring at the girl in front of me, a few seemingly jealous. Brooke was now fully flushed by the amount of attention she's receiving, which is incredible compared to how little she is given. I almost pity the girl. But at least she has a family. A caring family.

The underage girl in front of me wriggles out of my grasp, escaping into the shadows, observing. Now I'm the subject of attention. I sigh, and speak. "Very well, children. I have blown off my steam. So I won't begin to spontaneously combust unlike some people. Or I might. Who really knows. But I still caution you to keep your distance, because your parents are Olympians, and I have no love for Olympus. That was lost long ago when I was banished. Not from Olympus, but the mortal world. But let us leave this gods forsaken cabin and begin your training. Bob, if you would kindly lead the way."

The Titan gives a nod in affirmation, before exiting the cramped room with his long strides, the others following behind. I can see the expectation on some of the boys' faces. I could only sigh, knowing this'll take some time. The girls seem hesitant, so I am forced to offer some form of enticement; a lure. "Come on, young ladies! Learning the art of weapons combat really isn't that hard once you can get the basics down. I promise that if you really are struggling, I'll personally see to it that you learn properly. That also means that I'll train you personally."

Hearing this, the remaining girls marched on with renewed vigour, and sprinted to catch up with the others. I laughed aloud, exiting the cabin and sprinting down towards where Bob has come to stop. I come to a halt, almost allowing my jaw to drop at the underground training facilities they've been given. It looks just a tad bit improved compared to Camp Half-Blood. Oh Hades, even Camp Jupiter is nothing compared to this. We stand in front of a gate, joined to a fence. The fences extended a few miles, left to right. In the fenced area is a plane, reaching endlessly, beyond my sight. And that's something. I see a group of cabins, a larger building, a forest, a lake, an orchid, and other things you wouldn't have thought possible. But I see it. And I even see something resembling an ancient gladiatorial arena, and other facilities that will surely assist in their training. I almost laugh in my own amusement, a prayer of thanks being sent to Hades. They could see the obvious grin on my face widening as I spoke. "Get settled in. This will be your home for your time with me, so remain earnest, people! After sorting yourselves out, meet me at that large training arena over there. You can't miss it."

The sadistic aura now has a physical appearance. I could see them shivering, and they had every right to be. Because I'm now a mortal's nightmare, until I return. I unlatch the gate, seeing them sprint towards the cabins in an effort to escape me. Even if its temporary. Still a satisfying sight for me. I speak to Bob, almost commanding him. "Make sure they get to the arena. All of them. I want to show them a few things."

He gave a mock solute, replying sarcastically. "Yes sir. Is there anything else you would like, your majesty?" Without giving me a chance to say another word, he walks off. Fair enough.

I sigh, knowing that I shouldn't really be arguing with the Titan. I check my energy levels, checking to see the expenditure of my exploits an hour or two ago at the little battle I had with the automaton. I'm glad to say that fatigue won't effect arms for some time, and I still have enough power left within my energy reserve to perform at a mid-ranged level. I can't run at full capacity, otherwise it may just kill me. Or worse. At least I know when not to over-exert myself. Most demigods and little god-lings don't.

I walk over the arena, tossing the cloak carelessly onto the low seats. I see that this is large enough to hold divisions for sword-fighting, spear-battling, dagger wielding and every other short to medium combat weapon ever produced. And over in the corner are a few dummies and automatons, clearly improved from my time. There also happens to be a door, with the title 'weapon storage'. At least there isn't an archery or gun range. But they're probably in the forest. I open the door and enter, turning to stare in amazement at the long list of weapons.

All of these weapons have some form of blade, or protruding tip. Or multiple ends. All gleaming, and very shiny. As in, newly produced and well-kept. None truly drew my attention, but most unfortunately, one sword did. Actually, it was the scabbard. Knowing my luck, it must have drew my attention for some particular reason. Apart from it screaming "pick me, Perseus, pick me!", the weapon itself had something sinister, something ancient. And luckily, this mustn't be linked to Kronos. I could only explain by saying that this was the gift Hades intended on giving me. The only explanation.

The scabbard has to be that of a broadsword. The scabbard was just plain leather tainted black, but I know an enchanted item when I see one. The hilt of the sword itself was visible, and I could see that the metal itself was black, a substance I can't label, some parts golden, bronze or silver. I can't tell if they are the blessed metals or not. My hand reaches out, and my hand makes contact with the cold, hard metals. I unsheathed the blade, finding it surprisingly light. I find the blade tinted red, with a fiery red aura.

I only notice the chain when it wraps around my wrist, tightening, and my mind establishes a connection with the blade almost unconsciously. I am in awe as to how such a thing could happen, wondering why a blade like this exists. A voice echoes in my head. **_Hope you like it, kid. It's a thing of legend, this sword, as are you. Use it well. Until next time, I imbue you with the knowledge of this blade._** It left just as quickly as it came. The voice was identified as male, talking to me as a grown man would talk to a young boy. Paternal, some may say.

But then the knowledge flooded my mind.

The knowledge of millennia fill my mind, and to begins to overload, as no mortal mind should hold so many memories. I now know how to speak ancient languages, long thought lost, both mortal and godly. I now wield powers the blade has absorbed. I receive many things, but in turn, the blade is now part of my life force. So I'm stuck with it, until I die.

I'm now eternally damned. Just _perfect_.

Not like I wasn't in the first place, but you understand well enough. But this is just _awesome_, I tell you. Because then the scabbard wrapped itself around my waist. Not tight, so its suffocating my waist, but not all that loose either. Just perfect. Then it disappears.

I just sigh, hating my life, and exiting the room, walking over to where the targets are. I stabbed, just to test the blade, and the blade changed form, allowing easier manoeuvring with my blade, so I can thrust my hand with efficiency. But my movements came naturally as I swung and jabbed, the sword actually making contact with the mortal armour of the now more apparent skeleton warrior. The warrior parried, evaded and blocked, but did not strike once. My shirtless form glistened as I finally defeated the thing.

I turned around to pinpoint the sound that had disturbed my trance, only to find that a majority of my students have come sit in the stands, talking in hushed voices, casting me glances. They were either drawn to my neck, or my abdomen. I calmly sheathe my newly acquired sword into its reappearing scabbard, waiting for the remainder to do as requested. When the remaining children had appeared, I was seething. They seem so ignorant, so oblivious to the fact that they could be pulverised. The remaining children had to be that child of Zeus, along with his little followers and their clingy girl pet things. But most of them cringed at the sight of my body. Not the body itself, but the scars that are now obvious to the world.

My voice echoes through the hollow arena as I stare directly at the children who had already made my bad side apparent. "The first issue I will point out is your timing. I'm your teacher, so you are expected to obey my commands, and you can't win through technicalities, as you will know what is expected of you. That much will be clear. So, when I say get to the arena to meet me, you will get there in a reasonable amount of time. It isn't much that I expect of you. Is that clear, children?"

They gave their nods. I cleared my throat, saying, "Today, we will sort out a few basic things concerning you and weapons. You will choose the appropriate weapon that best suits you, and you will just experiment with it today if you remain unaware as to how to properly wield it. I have no doubt that some of you already have some type of experience, however. And if you wish to know why I'm qualified to be here, that remains simple. I already have extensive knowledge of swordsmanship, having mastered both Greek and Roman sword styles. I am in the process of training in others. My hand-to-hand combat skills and melee are extraordinary, just as well. My skills with both the dagger and spear are formidable, but I am far from mastering them. My knowledge on warfare and strategy is still far greater than any of yours, I'm willing to assume. But never, not ever, ask me to teach archery. I'm known to do horribly in projectile warfare, like firearms and archery. Is this understood?"

Most gave a nod, but the Sky Child and his play-thing were defiant. I could see. I stared at him for a moment, before looking at the girl. The girl had dark hair, with eyes to match, and a regal posture. Her clothes labelled her Roman, and there was this familiar light in her eyes. For a moment, I thought she was familiar. Then I saw the medals pinned proudly on her chest.

With my curiosity peaked, I asked, "Who are you, girl?" I pointed directly at her, and she was temporarily astounded. "My name is R…" I didn't hear her full name, because she muttered the remaining in her boyfriend's clothes.

Instead, she asked another question, pointing to my neck. "What is that around your neck,_ oh mighty teacher?_" I detected a slight hint of sarcasm in her voice, but I answered. "This is one of the many consequences I had to pay for the council's choice, girl. It is a shock collar that keeps me submissive. But, if I may ask, aren't you one to already know your way with weapons, daughter of the war goddess?"

This left her stunned, staring at me. He looked scandalised. I continued on, "Hmm, Rey. You just might remember me. After all, I was in both the wars. I fought, but in the end, when it mattered, my trust was betrayed. I know you know who I am, even if you choose to deny it, but I exist. I exist as me, the boy who now is trapped within an awful fate of mortality and eternal torture, ascending up to immortality, still being condemned an awful fate. Why must the Moirai choose me, I will never know. But then again, if it wasn't me, it had to be some mortal. We both know **he** denied you in the worst possible way, but this foolish little boy won't replace him. I know an immortal soul suffers, so leave before you are damned until the end of time. You don't know what I suffer, you don't see the tears I cry. I love, I truly do. But it becomes too hard, especially when it is so easy to hate. What do you think the scars are caused by?"

Midway through my talk, I was so far into my mind that I failed to realise that we had an audience, or I had just forgotten. They were listening intently, eager to learn as much as they can about me. And I had given away a valuable part of my life, one I wished to keep secret from them. But I know I had affected the girl, as she visibly shook her head, denying it. Still, she was staring at me, in a trance. I gave her a weary smile, sighing. I know that I must be some interesting thing to them. A true thing, because I have to be detained with a shock collar.

I can see the snarls on their faces, honestly thinking, in their arrogance, that they are better than me. I now see what should have been obvious, and I will make sure this whole argument is settled today, and they will see who is truly strongest.

I turn to stare at the boy, and just for a second, that smirk faltered. I know he recognises the grin upon my face. One of expectation, one of complete anticipation. I ask, "You think that you are better than me, child of Jupiter? If this is so, please do tell. And face me, defeat me in battle, through fair means. If you lose, I win the right to say that your arrogance and foolhardiness is just like your family above, within almighty Olympus! And you will admit defeat. But most importantly, you will tell me just why you did such a foolish thing."

He raised an eyebrow, "What do I get?" He asked.

Of course, I can't say I am surprised with this response. Always thinking about themselves. I reply, "If I lose, you will get the right to boast of having defeated me, which is a huge feat in itself, especially in combat. But I will also give you one of my cherished swords, blades I have forged with my own hands. And I will also leave peacefully, allowing you to do whatever you wish until Hades returns, along with your fellows. You may call it a reprieve from life."

I could see the hunger in his eyes, and I knew of his decision almost instantly. With my advanced hearing, I could hear every word they speak. Their conversation really didn't surprise me.

It went a bit like the following.

"Listen, Daniel. You can't possibly do this. You just won't win." The girl spoke in a hushed voice, glancing around almost suspiciously.

He replied, "I can go against him. Sure, he seemed dangerous with the dark swirling aura floating around him, but that's just a magician's trick. I've seen it been done before. I can beat him, easy." The tone was filled to the brink with his father's arrogance, and pride. I laughed at this.

"But you won't win. Because if you knew all the things about him, like I did, you would surely reconsider."

"Why's that, Rey? What should I know about this man?"

"I can't tell you everything about him, all of his achievements. That'd take too long. When this boy was a demigod, he fought for the gods. And he was a powerful demigod at that, held up in high regards among the Olympians. He has defeated Titans, Giants and Gods alike, slain many beasts in his time. From what I've been told, he's held off the advancements of Aphrodite. Just by doing that, he's surpassed most demigods to ever roam the earth. And even Calypso. Bloody Calypso."

It was something of an impressive list. The boy's response? "So what? I've did all of that stuff…" He continued on, boasting on petty things that I won't even bother to mention. I yawn tiredly.

"But you don't get it, do you? He was in both the Titan War _and_ Giant War. He was one of the demigods that protected Olympus from Kronos, while you were a toddler having tantrums about what clothes to wear. Do you want to know something else? He defeated the Minotaur twice, the first time as an untrained demigod, unclaimed, with no weapon. He entered the legion carrying Juno upon his shoulders, defeating two Gorgons. He went from probatio to Praetor within a week, restoring the pride to the fifth cohort and returning the legion standard. Lady Hazel, Pluto's daughter, and Lord Frank, child of Mars and descendant of Poseidon, were the first to meet him. They had thought that he himself was a god, as had I at first glance. He was Hazel's big brother in everything but blood, just as well. He went missing long ago, and the Olympians had erased all memory of him throughout the mortal world, led by both your father and his brother. You may think it was Peter who did all this, but he was hidden away in his father's precious kingdom. You dare speak ill of him, and you will come to regret ever living. Now do not come and find me, for I will choose what dictates my life."

With her rant completed, the daughter of the War Goddess Bellona walks off, seething in her shell, prepared to seriously hurt someone. And I just know she regrets, as it is all in the voice.

The boy stands up and walks over to the centre of the arena, drawing his sword. He gives a sigh, fear evident in his posture, and his gaze steely. He takes a deep breath as I adjust my own senses, readying my stance.

"Let us begin, great master. For I fear that we must commence in our battle. But first, let's get some rules down."

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**A/N: By the way, I'll make one thing clear. This may be harem, but it won't be excessive. Like Percy/25 other pairings other than the main plot line. If it is harem, there will only be three or four. So, yeah. I've got plans for Reyna, sinister plans. Yes, Reyna. Don't you find Preyna pairings uncommon? This serves as an Implication. No guarantee, however.**

**So please, if you like this story, leave your thoughts, dislikes, questions and all other shit I'm really not going to care about. Because, after all, its appreciated. Argh, I hate writing author's notes. Goodbye dumb-a - I mean readers.**

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**One more thing I'll add. At 1521, Tuesday the 13 of August, AEST, my frustration continues to build, slowly ticking over to anger. I don't ask to have like 2 hundred reviews, with so many followers. All I'm asking is for your _opinion_, your _thoughts_, your _dislikes_, your _ideas_. I can only ask for so many things from you lot, but I don't want you to hate this story, or any ideas I place. That's why I am pleading that you leave something in your wake. So I can at least acknowledge whether you like it or not. And I don't plead, never.**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer; I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, the Heroes of Olympus, their plots, characters or destinations used within the series. Rick Riordan does. Copyright belongs to his publishers, Hyperion Books.**_

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Chapter 8

The grin of anticipation never left my face as I spoke. "Rules, eh? You actually wish to play fair? That's a first for a child of the Sky God. But what ever you say, boy. I'll be nice and let you establish the rules, but I will openly show my disagreement with any I think are wrong, or in need of fine tuning. Hurry, for I know this battle will be something someone will regret, and I will not prolong it any further." I said this as I looked down at my fingertips, cleaning the grime from under my fingernails. It may seem arrogant, yes, but I trust my abilities, and I am fully aware of what I am doing.

He gave a sigh and said, "We will duel with our swords and our swords alone, until one is fully disarmed and he yields to the other. This means no powers or hidden abilities or concealed weapons. No punching, kicking or hitting in any way unless you need to reach for your weapon. No shoving or pushing, either. This is just a test of skill, and where we compare with the other. I also want to see if you're telling the truth when you say that you have mastered both Greek and Roman combat types. Another thing I will point out. No cheating in anyway, or using combat techniques of another culture. Are these terms agreeable?"

His terms were fair enough, so I agreed by just nodding my head. His smirk must have extended as he drew out his sword - an ancient weapon, wielded by Greece's proudest warriors, heroes and champions - but much to his surprise, it didn't phase me. This is nothing compared to the Scimitars. Only those, along with the Scythe, and the Sickle really make me flinch, outwardly.

The sword glows in the darkness of Hades, the gleaming blade pointed towards me. Without screaming some sort of battle cry or warning, or even a shout of "begin", he races towards me, his sword held aggressively. He's the first to swing as he runs forward, attempting to just win through pure momentum. I tut as I side-step, parrying the blade as it moves past my head and in turn, returning the favour as I twirl. I have to admit, the boy's strokes were smooth and movement fluent, but I found the attempted strikes too easy to deflect. With the flat side of the blade, I'm sure that a bruise will form in the next few minutes.

At least I didn't use the sharp edge, that would've severely harmed him and he would be dead, hadn't he been immortal. And it would have absorbed any powers he did have. So, he's incredibly lucky.

He comes to a stop, gripping his blade with a hand, massaging the spot on his head with the other. He moves to take position, but my body moves quickly, and with a flurry of strikes, I have him being forced back step-by-step, trying to combat my own momentum. He isn't doing good, as few cuts begin to appear along his body, not shallow enough to allow his healing to immediately take effect, but not deep enough to seriously harm his soul.

He attempts to stab at my right, trying to catch me off guard with a different fighting style, but my arm reaches under his guard, and with my sword looming closely, he's forced to take a step back, applying a defensive pose. He knows only some of my capabilities, so he knows to remain wary. Slowly he approaches me, protecting as much as his own body as he could. I laugh, doing nothing but waiting patiently.

Like all ignorant fools, he draws straws first, charging at my left, which is my weaker side, only a tiny difference, as my left eye is covered and my right side is naturally dominant. And I allow him to think that this is far beyond weak, as I just rely on my right. But with a thought, the sword is in my other hand, chain wrapped around my wrist securely. Now I'm fending him off with my left hand, like a classical sword fighter, learning ambidexterity. I can't say I'm close to mastering it with my left hand alone, but I can say that I can do well, taking out an entire legion of monsters.

He keeps on using more and more techniques, forcing me to adapt each time, than switching just to begin the process all over again. I might have screamed, but I do not know. I can't say this wasn't frustrating me, as it was steadily sending me closer to the edge, where I may hang for some time. But I keep my poise, because an outburst of emotion will not do me well right now. Instead, I put more effort into my own fighting, seeing how many of my own moves he can counter.

But my experience and semi-fitness was winning over his own body, which was in a worst condition than me. Which means that he is very unfit, for an immortal. Soon, my blade was moving like a rotary wheel, spinning at a drastic speed and really putting the pressure on the boy to combat my blur of a blade, attempting to parry it with his own. I had worn him out, and he knows that he will fail, very soon.

I analyse every movement he makes, plans forming within my brain. I know what to expect, and how to combat it. I see the flaws in all of his endeavours. The maniacal smile appearing on my face revealed that he has indeed fallen pray to me, and there's no escaping. I laugh as his arm is bent too far outwards, hyperextending, his posture all incorrect. In that split second, my blade is in his palm, the flat of the blade pointing up, and I twist, effectively making him yelp, dropping his sword and clutching his hand. I never thought I could bring him down so easily.

My blade is now at his throat, and too tired to fight back, he sighs. "I yield. You win." He speaks, weary of today's battle.

I remove the blade from his neck, sheathing it, and speaking for the first time. "You'll do well to learn that trick I had just exhibited. It was one the very first techniques I had learned, from a long dead friend. But do not worry about losing to me, because at least I'm not Ares. I won't boast or gloat in any way. And like I said, I'm a swordsman with many years of experience, living longer than any mortal should, battling enemies no mortal would dare face. With that being said, I expected better."

I wave my hand, sighing. I close my eyes and just think for a time, immersed within the moment. I can feel him stand up, and my eyes open to gaze at the sword he had been using to fight me, outstretched. I saw the inscription, scowling. I snatch the blade from his hands, observing the fine metalwork and staring.

Multiple questions escape my lips. "Why must you worship such a man? Why must it be the worst of all, one of the only ones to ever ascend to godhood and receive the permanent respect of the gods? Must it be Hercules? Are you aware of the crimes he has committed? Genocide, murder, rape, assault, blasphemy, must I go on? Why can't you worship a hero that is worthy of your respect, not some scum that deserve the very worst tortures in the pits of hell? Can't you label one? Because neither can I." My tone would be matching someone from the senate, speaking rhetorical questions that aren't meant to be answered, like a philosopher.

But the rant doesn't end there. "I ask that you commit this name to memory. Perseus Jackson. Learn of why it is blasphemy to speak his name. Learn of his endeavours, his feats, his life. Learn the life he lived, and compare it with your own. Learn why the gods had abandoned him, why they banished him to eternal torment. Then tell me why, why my life is damned. Tell me why. Tell me the reason I shouldn't forever remain bitter of my past. Answer me many things."

Everything was silent.

"Tell me why Rick Riordan, the god of awesome tales, epic adventure, the child's imagination and hope, and marvellous literature, was thrown off Olympus by Zeus. I'll tell you something. This sword is to be destroyed. I will not have a student of mine worshipping another immortal who was known as the 'Abuser of Maidens' during his time, as he took so many girls as his own. If you are to pray to someone, pray to your parents and hope I don't catch you."

With my final words, I turn around silently, exiting the arena set-up and instead, walking to the forest, hoping to blow away some stress. By stress I mean water, and by blow away I mean blow up. Entering the forest, my surroundings are as quiet as my footsteps, showing a lack of activity. And it seems it had been disturbed by someone, as there is a rather obvious path that's been blown through the trees. Deciding to leave them alone, I walk my own path, sitting down by the flowing banks of the River Styx. But in this case, the water is harmless, as they have some sort of filter for the water that goes in here. I don't know about that stuff.

I sigh, gazing into the flowing stream, thinking _what went wrong in my life?_ And in my musings, I failed to notice the petite figure next to me. Fingers snapped in front of my face as a voice called "Perseus?" By my side. I turn to stare at one of the many girls that have taken some liking towards me. A most unfortunate fact, really. She spoke with a sigh. "It really is nice to see you alive, Percy. You don't know how disturbed we had been."

My face contorts into a scowl. "Understand that I'm no longer Percy Jackson, Reyna. He's the valiant hero who's selfless and ever-loving, and he's long gone. I'm left in his place. And don't try to openly deceive me. I know a liar when I see one, and my sword will automatically tell me if you speak the truth or not. Besides, I've had enough visions to know that you are indeed wrong." My glare was intense, and that's how I like it.

She cringed at the words I speak, but replied just as quickly. "Very well, whomever you prefer to call yourself. And you are correct, partially. New Rome has missed you, whether Octavian brands you a traitor or not. Hazel and Frank sorely miss you. But we aren't told anything, in fact, neither camp knows all that much about your mysterious disappearance. The difference, however, is obvious. At New Roman settlements, you are held in high regards, few temples devoted to you, you are considered among the gods, even having your own priests. Yes, you heard correctly. But the gods make sure to throw all this under the carpet, declaring your name an insult to their cause, blasphemy, trying to get us to stop. But they're failing, horribly. But Camp Half-Blood on the other hand. I won't offer the explicit details but they have forgotten you, your treasures lost within the archives. Now they're all over-"

My hand covers her mouth to stop her from speaking any longer. "Please, Reyna, listen. I'm aware of most of this, but the whole temple thing is something. And please don't speak of the others, as those memories still haunt me to this very day. But you must understand, they aren't the only ones to blame. I have committed things that should have never happened, felt things that the previous being within me wouldn't even imagine. I am rising, daughter of Bellona. The hero has fallen, long ago. And the thing is, I still love the girl, even if my love is no longer returned, and I am now the object of affection for many others. I have laid with just as many women. Where I live, it is hell. Not just like the physical hell, with the devil, hellfire, and demons, because that's basically here, but this is my personal hell. And I hate the gods of Olympus for putting me there. Yet, I am partially grateful. But if we must remain in confidentiality…"

I trailed off, leaning towards the helpless immortal girl in front of me. She seemed to blush at our near distance. My figure must have been imposing, as the girl attempted to shrink down. I sigh, allowing one of my hands to reach around her waist, pulling her closer, whilst the other is holding her hand, caressing it with my thumb. Her tense shoulders slumped, and she visibly relaxed as she moved forward to embrace this, our faces cocking to opposite sides, knowing from previous experience that any bump on the nose really isn't a turn on.

The sigh that seemed to escape her mouth when our lips touched was one of bliss, making my lips crack into a smile. Her lips were soft, I have to admit. So tender, so sensitive. Every little touch would earn a response from the poor girl, clearly lacking male partners, and not exactly having much experience like this. But at least she'll get her pleasure. Our lips never once parted as we remained like this for a while. But the first to make any major move was the girl in my embrace, as I feel something warm, soft and moist on my lips. The tongue.

The grin spread itself along my lips as our two mouths parted, allowing greater movement with our tongues. Now our tongues fought in a full out war of French kissing, tongues and all. The session was heavy, as both of our tongues dominated, exploring each other's mouths, and our hands began to wander into certain places that aren't exactly something one can describe without going into vivid detail. All I could really begin to register was that the girl is really wound up, and this is only further intensifying those feelings. And I was finding it hard to concentrate on logical thought as the player inside me urged me to continue on, to explore further.

Her face is flushed as I take a cautious step back, blinking in disbelief. My head is shaking furiously as I fail to come to terms with my body, disbelieving. The girl is left in this trance, on the edge between morality and letting herself go. But there was hurt in her eyes, and there was self-doubt. She got the wrong message. I spoke, trying to assure the poor thing. "There's nothing wrong, Reyna. Really. Please just remember that the burden of guilt is still large, and I do not wish to degrade you or what reputation you may have, by committing the vile acts that roam the empty space in my mind. What might you call it? A moment of sin. I'm really sorry about this."

There was an all too familiar light in her eyes. I mentally groaned, complaining within my head. _Why does this seem to be happening every time, and I'm usually the one getting all the love?_

Her tone was expectant, but at the same time accusatory and filled with doubt. "You love me, right?" I really didn't know how to convey this to the girl without her getting all angry, or sad, or hysterical. The pretty girl had the eyes, and I was forced to stare into those dark, tempting orbs.

"I don't know how to say this. Understand that I'm not the same male as I was, back then. I've changed drastically. That also means my love, my love is now next to nothing. My actually feeling, the emotion. The circumstances are different with my _Άγγελος από Κόλαση_, as she has chosen me as her mate. And the Crooked One. I hate him. Then there's a few others we've yet to discover. But you understand, I can't love you in the same way. But I will love you, though. And think of it this way. I can do whatever I wish, with **whoever** I wish, at any time. Seek me out later."

The girl leaned back against my chest, sitting comfortably in my lap and purring into my clothes. I don't think I've heard such a sound out of the mouth of this mighty warrior. But years can change any being, and eventually get to a man. Or woman, in this case. I could hear her words through the vibrations of my clothes. "I'm so sorry. I should've just claimed you as mine, and kept you in my sight. But after he left me, in that way, I c-cannot conceive the fact that I was left alone. And now, he's happy and completely oblivious to this. To my state. Every time we would meet, I force a smile. He doesn't realise its fake, and I'm hurting on the inside as consequence. He doesn't know anything."

She was close to tears now, and the situation is awkward for me, because I shouldn't be dealing with petty problems like a broken heart. Only compare her problems to mine. Even then, I still can't just ignore it like some passing stranger. But then she glanced up. And continued. "But staring at you, I'm saturated. I know it isn't just me reacting to this. It's obvious that you receive the attention of most of the girls past their pubescent age. Yes, I'm alert to these kinds of things. I see with my own eyes. I can feel the inner war goddess within me attracted to you, because of skills you have shown. Both in the past and present. You have proven yourself powerful, skilled, intelligent, brave, honourable. And I know she told you about my romantic endeavours - at which I failed - and I. We all should've known that the council was involved with your disappearance. My mother even hinted it. Those stu-" The rest of her speech was muffled in my shirt. Yes, I put a shirt back on.

The girl just sighed, only glancing up to meet my gaze with a sad smile. "I am just sorry for everything. I hate seeing such a bright soul turned into an abomination. I've seen many in my time, and I could never wish it upon you. You have suffered, as your scars reveal everything. No blessing or one lone goddess can deceive me. I can only wish to remain with you, assist you in this purgatory. But please understand, my original purpose was to watch over the god-lings in their descent into here. But I see that I am no longer needed." She spoke this with that regretful smile, her eyes pleading. Hey, I don't control who stays and who goes.

I just stood up, shaking up my limbs. Attempting to bring the circulation back into my legs. She followed suit, only trying to figure out another one of my physical changes. Perhaps it's the increase of height.

Raising an eyebrow, she questions. "You have something you wish to say, mister? You have something on your mind, so spit it out. And I don't have all day, as I have duties I must attend to."

Rolling my eyes, I returned a smile of my own, preferring that we speak like this, as this is much less formal than the long, boring speeches we've been throwing back and forth at each other. I can't say I don't like using fancy words that confuse people, which rarely ever happens anyway. The stupid Titan Lord has a vast vocabulary I would have never known existed within him. I swear Time is wisdom and an unmatched force in its own right.

I frown a frown of revelation, mentally shaking my head. We stand there in silence as my hand comes to lay on her forehead, both remaining still. I close my eyes, feeling the warm skin on her skull, the tiny beads of sweat pouring down. My mind swells with information useless to this current situation, but the particular memories soon flow into my head, reminding me of what I will have to return to, after doing what I have to do within the Underworld.

My body shudders as I make an effort to control my own memories, allowing this girl's conscious mind to see the memories that I have long since managed to keep away under a metaphorical lock and key. My memories come to a stop as something clicks in the back of my mind. This is when I felt a foreign force in control of my words, my language. It wasn't foreign as such, just another unaccounted spirit that I have somehow inherited within my being.

I'm forced to watch on from a whole other perspective, as I'm forced to watch the scene of me holding my palm against a girl's forehead, reciting some strange thing in a whole new language, something I could translate.

**_"Your gods dare betray me, daughter of Bellona! I am the child of beings far superior than your own pathetic family, an heir to unclaimed thrones. I was your hero, a pathetic oblivious idiot serving as your saviour multiple times! I lived a mortal life where I was strongest, greater than any mortal before me. I was worthy of so much more, but your gods condemn me to the pit! I gigantic trench filled with demons, monsters, immortals and beasts that could ravage me within seconds, even when I do nothing wrong according to true divine law. But then again, what is the fate of a bastard child with no father to rely? The product of the breaking of a solemn oath?"_**

**_"But now, I will be so much more. When the Crooked One realises what he has truly done, it will be too late. I will be released from my cage within this mortal coil, and I will love my angel to the ends of time. This torture is nothing like what my enemies will face, gods be damned if this boy has any mercy to spare. I will fight, but I will ascend to what is rightfully mine. And do you truly know of why I have appeared, child of the war goddess?"_**

The poor girl looked ready to faint, both the memories and inner voice of this thing overwhelming her. I could only stand by, arms crossed, waiting for control of my body to return.

Not getting a response, he continues. **_"I have come to warn them. Your impending doom is imminent. He has returned, and vengeance is burning upon the flame of hatred that he holds. You will talk of this to only the Olympians, those being every single one of them, and what's left of the demigods from the wars, who I know currently reside upon Olympus as immortals. Warn them that I am coming, and nothing will stop the inevitable. Know me as the champion of divine justice, immortal will, retribution. Now, be gone! Perhaps true justice lies through other means. Perhaps I could become fond of you."_**

With a flash of painfully bright light, my eyes open to find my eyes burning, my body feeling strange from the use of another presence. I don't even know what it was, but it definitely was not an Eidolon. I might just find a way to make immortals painfully fade if that ever happened again.

My eyes adjusted intensity within a few moments, my world in a spin. I could only laugh as I moved further into middle the river, sitting down in the cold waters. Allowing the fresh, clean water to rush against my skin, I could only smile in content. It's been a long time since I have been able to do this without being disturbed.

I really must put my free time to use, trying to develop what abilities I have. I'm bathing in the Styx, and even if the Lady of the Styx has given me her blessing, I _must_ practice, otherwise her blessing may prove to be pointless to the world.

Letting my body sink to the sea floor, I lie down, strewn across the sea floor. I must think, I must focus. Images play throughout my head, tainted by my emotions. I react to every scene, every memory, with varying degrees of emotion. For example, the moment where I was cursed to this place. It brings up bitterness, the anger welling up deep in my stomach.

But I must move on and focus on the now; the present, as the fate I behold only keeps me in chains. There is no way to win against the Fates, unless you are an older entity, surpassing ancient Primordial Gods. Or you are simply outside their dominion of power. Which cannot be done, as I am tied with Greece and Rome. I have seen it.

I focus on what I have in possession. I have learned to forge, created the physically impossible. Even with magic, it was an improbable feat. I shouldn't have even existed in the presence of a material with such a high temperature, standing less than 10 feet away. I am a god in training. Yet I am still a prisoner. I represent the spirits of many powers, a key in keeping the power of balance. I have another ancient sword that shouldn't remain in my unworthy hands, older than any Titan God, I'm sure. I have another supporter who I've yet to identify, being labelled a "he". But powerful enough to give me an ancient sword considered ancient by ancient gods.

But I can determine one thing. I'm severely overpowered, and my soul probably shouldn't exist with the stress it bears.

My power, at this very moment in time, probably exceeds quite a few deities living on Olympus. At the moment, I reckon that my power may not be extreme, but in combination with my weapons, formidable. I haven't a word in my vocabulary that could possibly describe me once my vigorous training regiment is finally completed. But I've yet to start it, however, I am aware that it will be excessively difficult, purposely created that way.

Moaning, I attempt to access my inherited power, trying to hold back the agonising groan caused by a severe pain in my stomach. Almost growling in frustration, I let my control over the water go, finding ways to insult Poseidon from all the way down here. The collar does only buzz in the water, seemingly waterproof. Of course that is to be, as Kronos wouldn't have it any other way. Restrict me in my own (original) element of power. Still greater than most of his previous actions, I admit. Some of his previous actions weren't very nice at all.

But standing up, and pushing myself back to shore through the calm water, I stand on both feet, my skin tingling. Looking down, I find Styx water hitting the ground in tiny droplets, leaving the ground around them in a corrosive and withering state. It's like acid rain, I swear. But glancing at my skin, its perfectly fine.

There isn't much to expect now, as I've fought many monstrosities in my time, ranging from a lone Hellhound to a giant born of Gaia. But I know that I've yet to see everything in Tartarus, and that might take several hundreds of years' memories, without being confined to a single place. And I'll be damned if Kronos makes me venture the depths of Tartarus.

Focusing, my skin is soon void of the river's waters, my body completely dry. And I feel perfectly fine, the river not sapping up my energy. I expand my senses outwards, closing my eyes, ignoring the gently swaying trees and the rushing currents of the stream. My senses are broadened to focus on a particular energy signature, one that's sneaking up right behind me.

She fails to realise that she can't really sneak up on me that easily, right? Besides, she really shouldn't be here. She has duties to attend to, like keeping up the hate.

My eyes open, settling on the calm ripples of the water, my feet outstretched into its banks. She steadily approaches, wary. I sigh, rolling my eyes at the thoughts running through her head. "My Lady, surely you mustn't have thought that you could sneak up on me unnoticed, did you? Because your steps are like thunder reverberating throughout my ears, that is to say loud. My sensitive hearing is as acute as any lone god."

She freezes, caught in the act. I could feel her muscles tense, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She wasn't expecting me to notice, thinking that I was wrapped too far into my own thoughts. She moves beside me, sitting down and sighing in weariness. Her boots splash against the filtered water, surprisingly not dissolving around her feet. She just had a wicked smile on her face as she stared at me, a glint of emotion revealing itself, one that I'd rather not let anyone else seem or possibly imagine.

We remain in silence for a short period of time before she cracks, opening up and answering. "I'm sure your hearing is very well kept, child. You were right, I was loud. But you and I both know why I'm here, what I want. I imagined this day to be quite romantic for quite some time, but I wouldn't call this anything close."

Spluttering up water I didn't know my throat contained, I coughed in surprise. What a _revelation_ this happens to be. But I really begin to wander off into my questions.

"Wait, what? What do you mean 'long time'? As far as I'm aware, we've never met before in the _past_. I think an explanation is valid, goddess." I was rising into hysterics, immediately triggered by such a small comment. Damn, the guilt…

She only gave her malicious grin in return, responding to my question. "Do you not remember when you bathed in the Styx, Perseus? Or Poseidon's oath? Because I do, I was there. I made sure the river didn't harm you, in fact I did everything in my power to make sure you would survive. From then, I hid in the shadows, over watching you. Where do you think the rage came from in the final battle for _Mount_ Olympus? You could never conjure such anger, such _hate_, alone. How do you think you escaped Tartarus the first time, intact? I have helped you in many more ways than you may think, mortal. In return, I only ask for this _one time_, even if I can't have you forever."

There was a glint in her eyes, completely genuine. She seemed so helpless, so desperate. I almost gave in and melted that very instant.

Shaking my head, I yelled to the heavens, or in here, the surface world. "No! I won't. I can't. I-I still love. I c-can't offer you all of what you want, and I know exactly what interests you. You can't have me. And I won't permit it."

She stared at me, her eyes flaring again. "You don't have any choice in the matter. At least I'm not _almighty Lord Kronos_ and resort to trickery and deception. And he doesn't care about your feelings. Why would he care about your feelings?"

As if hearing her words, the collar buzzed around my neck, releasing a strong jolt of electricity up my spine. In fact, it was much stronger than most shocks I normally receive, and as my body had temporarily forgotten about the daily shocks, it was unexpected and it hurt _really_ bad.

I lurched forward, my body releasing steam from the heat of the shocks, the temperature warming up my blood. Cringing, I groan as something in my spine goes with a snap. Letting out a brief whimper, my body collapsed onto the sand. Gods, Kronos, why this and now?

The response was faint cackles of laughter in the background of my mind, surpassing the white noise blocking my ears and drowning out the clarity my ears once possessed.

But I guess he has to exert his authority somehow.

I don't know how, but the next minute I find Lady Styx and I in the forest, concealed from the prying eyes of teenagers, laying on a plush mattress made of a very soft and comfortable material. Looking around, I can suddenly hear everything perfectly, clear as crystal. I lie on my stomach, my spine not effecting me at a great level. But I know that even if my spinal column is repaired by the Titaness/goddess beside me, it'll still be tender for a few years, at normal recovery, unless I can get it attended to by one of the chief magical healers.

I hear a purr in my ear, lips nibbling at my earlobe. "Finally, we're all alone. Don't worry about your spine, it'll be healed soon enough. Kronos is a bastard, I swear. But then again, he has my thanks for this," she moves her hands over my bare body, "and from everything else I'll get to experience today. Sit back, please, and let me have my fun. If you aren't too bad, who knows. We could do some _wild_ things."

Turning my head, she kisses me passionately and looks me directly in the eye. "I love you, no matter what."

That's the first 'I love you' I've heard in a long time, and it came from the very personification of hate.

* * *

Staring at the streaming waters washing past our feet, I sigh at what had just been done. Scowling, the weight of guilt only continues to fall down upon my shoulders, figuratively of course. Even if I suspect that I'm not the only one unfaithful in the relationship based solely in my mind, my real relationship broken and dissolved long ago. Gods, if that is so, I'll be destroyed.

The love I feel can never be replaced, but I may find love whilst being stuck in Tartarus, under Kronos' capture. Such an idea is normal in these circumstances.

I feel the warmth of my lover's body curled up against mine, her breathing steady, her eyes closed. For now, she rests under the blankets. But I am done with her, we both know it. She can't have me, unless I choose to be a selfish jerk like Hercules. Which is never to happen.

With both my mind and body relaxed, I fail to hear the light tread of a young girl, born mortal to divinity. Born to Hades in both her life cycles. And I don't realise she's searching for me, and thinks that she will have her way.

"-rseus! Perc-" She stops, her eyes wide as she glances at our naked forms, taking mine in. Then there was a glint of realisation in her eyes as she began to back away, tears welling up in her eyes. Oh gods, I'm going to die one way or another. By Hades probably, as I broke his daughter's heart.

Sprinting away, I could tell that she will cry. To what length, or to what level, I do not know.

Deciding to chase after her, I attempt to stand up. But I cringe in effort. Words are spoken in my ears. "Don't worry, love. The girl will be fine. After a while. But I'd be scared of her father if I were you. Hades is not an enemy someone with your power should make. But I like the proverb **hell hath no fury like a woman scorned**. It's valuable that one, but I also like the proverb **the road to hell is paved with good intentions**. That's another useful one."

Laughing, I turn to look at her. "What's with you and the hell proverbs?"

Shrugging with her eyes closed, she waves her hand. "Now, go. That should relieve you of the pain until you can get your injuries properly attended to. Say hi to Kronos for me, could you? And don't forget your pants, otherwise- never mind, I won't say that."

Jumping up with surprising ease, I snap my fingers, my clothing instantly reappearing over my body. I have things to do, and I must continue with it. This also means discovering myself. And exploring the area around me further.

Sprinting, I run. Breathing in, this clears my head from the thoughts of malice that threaten to topple me and evoke my revenge, wreaking havoc throughout all who have wronged me and taking what should've been mine.

As most can see, there is a reason why I no longer trust only my gut.

But running doesn't always do well for me, as it can mean that I am running from some evil force that's trying to destroy me, or I'm trying to return to the defence of another. But in this case, I end up in a place I shouldn't.

Hidden amongst the forest, I end up at what I think is a cave. Curiosity at its peak, I walk in, climbing the small, yet steep incline. With that, I walk in, gripping my sword and energy blade tightly, the former uncapped and in my hands, buzzing. It was agitated, as if it sensed something I didn't.

It may be the candles situated on the ground on small pedestals, wicks burning brightly, the supports against the wicked-sharp cave walls. But the glow and shudder of the sword in my hands increased, apparently afraid of something.

It's the first time its did this.

When we reached a large cavern that seemed to be as tall as a giant, which is several feet in length, width, height, the shuddering stopped and glow increased in intensity.

That was when the all too familiar voice rung through the cavern.

"Hello Perseus."

Stopping, I find that the voice wasn't found in a single place, but coming from far above.

Glaring at no where in particular, I spat in return. "You have no right to utter my name. In fact, my name isn't Perseus. He and I are two completely separate entities, existing in one body."

A cold laugh reverberated past my head, cold gusts blowing at the back of my neck, causing me to shiver. "I do believe the correct words would be 'an altered personality' instead of 'two completely separate entities', hmm? I am here because I am here, as I am one of the great powers of this world. We both know this. Now, how is Tartarus?"

"Shut up," I hiss, the mental presence beginning to fool around with my mind.

"But why are you here, and please, just say what you will."

"Getting straight to the point I see, mortal. But you'll just have to find out later."

* * *

**A/N: Everybody understand that this chapter has been reposted for _certain_ reasons. **


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